


Steal my Heart

by BlimeyOhLimey



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-09-28 12:53:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 28,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20426297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlimeyOhLimey/pseuds/BlimeyOhLimey
Summary: Nicole moves into the apartment next door. Will her desire to possess beautiful things extend to Waverly...





	1. Appreciation

**Author's Note:**

> It would appear this story is dying to get out too....!
> 
> I play with several themes: Trust. Good/bad. People/possessions.
> 
> I added a Postscript to explain the true stories I drew upon to write this little adventure. Seriously, the real life stories are fucking crazy...you couldn't make this stuff up.
> 
> I include a few song references to capture a mood in a particular scene. Overall mood for the story is this song:
> 
> OceanLab - I Am What I Am
> 
> OK: Fan Fic No. 5, here we go...

It was a simple procedure. Release the painting from its frame. Roll it carefully in the lambswool blanket. Pop it in the tube. 

Nicole had done this countless times. It was becoming boring, to the point where she almost wanted to etch her name on one of the paintings, like Banksy. Having ‘Haught’ scrawled on a multi-million dollar piece of art, however, would devalue it. Deciding she preferred notes, money rather than notoriety, she chose not to vandalise the latest painting she was stealing.

Waverly was bored. She had got up late. She hated not being busy. Her last job at a major advertising agency had ended on a sour note. She inadvertently sent several top clients a rather explicit video. She meant to circulate it to a couple of people in the office. That action went spectacularly wrong, as she was summoned into the Director’s office to explain why several clients were threatening to close their accounts after viewing said video. In her defence, she explained, it was only a few clients she had sent it to, which is how Waverly found herself currently unemployed.

She rattled around the apartment. It wasn’t hers. It belonged to her current boyfriend, Charlie Hardy, aka Champ, an investment banker in the City. Her friends joked she was now banging a banker (with a silent ‘W’). She got the joke. Banker - Wanker. Great apartments come at a price and Waverly was comfortable with the cost, even if it meant being the butt of other’s jokes.

Champ’s flat was top spec. In Chelsea, with views over the River Thames that came with a ‘fuck off’ price tag, if anyone asked. It was large enough to accommodate Arsenal’s football team in an after-game party. Champ had been desperate to get a few players to come to one of his ‘infamous’ parties. They were always busy. The balcony was spacious, perfect for sunbathing. 

Waverly parked herself on a lounger. She had been working out. Her abs were to die for. Wearing a bikini was not a chore at her age. Wearing both parts was, which meant she only had the bottom part on when someone from the next apartment made their introductions.

Her arms above her head, relaxing, letting the rays hit most of her body, Waverly was accepting her firing from her last job, with grace. Her body was toned, beautifully tanned, angelic if you had to put a word on it. She hadn’t sensed someone looking at her.

It was only when she opened her eyes to check the time on her phone she saw someone leaning on the glass wall between the two apartments gazing at her body. She sat up, looking for her T-shirt, realising she had left it on a seat in the lounge. Her hands went to her exposed breasts, pointless, given the person staring at her had seen everything anyway.

“Great view.”

Waverly immediately heard the American accent. A tall, beautiful, red-haired woman, slightly older than her, was staring at her body in appreciation. It didn’t make her feel uncomfortable. She was used to people appreciating her body. She knew she was good looking and had a body many envied. Getting your tits out when sunbathing was de rigueur on all the girls’ holidays she had been on. 

“It is. I heard the removal men. Have you just moved in?”

“Yes. Short let, on business. You?”

“Oh, I live here with my boyfriend. You’re American.”

“Well spotted. We Americans get about.”

There was a silence. The pleasantries had exhausted themselves. Waverly would have been perfectly happy to talk to her new neighbour for the rest of the day, but sensed she didn’t want to hang around. Nicole started to move away from the glass wall.

“I’m Waverly, although my friends call me Waves.”

Nicole smiled. “Nice to meet you Waves. I’m Nicole.”

Waverly couldn’t place the feeling she had with her new neighbour. Intrigue, mystery, there was something about her making Waverly want to know more. 

Champ was in late. A drinks party at a bar overran. Waverly had left his dinner in the oven. He entered the lounge, finding her asleep in front of the TV, a show he hadn’t seen, a woman with long black hair pointing a glowing gun at someone. He went over and kissed her on the forehead startling her.

She opened her eyes, stretching out the position in which she had fallen asleep. “What time is it?”

“Gone 11pm. Sorry, darling. Got a bit carried away with the lads. Any food?”

“Oven. Was Joe there?”

“Yep. He said hello. We’ll have to get a foursome arranged.”

Joe was a work colleague of Champ’s who had started going out with Waverly’s friend Chrissy. They were a cute couple. Joe was smitten, which Chrissy was only too happy to use to her advantage. She was smitten too, but it was more fun having the boy do all the work.

Champ retrieved his lukewarm dinner, sitting at the dining table to eat.

“Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll be in after I finish this.”

“We have a new neighbour. American woman.”

“Really? That apartment has been empty for ages.”

“Very good looking.” 

Waverly wondered why she had mentioned this to Champ. Nicole was, but that observation could have remained with her. She didn’t want her boyfriend getting ideas. 

It was just as hot the next day. Waverly decided she would look for a new job when it was less sunny. For now, she planned to work on her tan and enjoy the luxury of being a lady of leisure. Champ didn’t mind. He quite liked the idea of someone being at home for him. She had just got comfortable on the lounger when she heard movement on Nicole’s balcony. She opened her eyes, remembering this time to grab her T-shirt to put on.

“You don’t have to on my account.”

Nicole was looking out over the river, a mug in her hand. She wasn’t looking directly at Waverly, but had obviously seen her topless again. Waverly considered leaving her top off, but thought better if she was going to strike up a conversation. She pulled her T-shirt on, which contoured her body perfectly.

She moved towards the glass wall separating the two apartments. Leaning over her balcony she mirrored Nicole’s posture. She wondered why Nicole was around during the day if she was here on business. She seemed to be a lady of leisure too. Perhaps her business didn’t involve being out during the day? 

“What line of work are you in?”

“Sales. Mostly antiques.”

“Sounds interesting. Is that why you’re here in London?”

“Partly. I have a few things to arrange. Quite like London. It’s my favourite city.”

It sounded very exotic to Waverly. She guessed Nicole travelled with whatever sales job she had. Having a favourite city was the equivalent of her having a favourite club. Waverly had travelled, but only on holiday, never on business. A jet set lifestyle appealed, but she was tied to London for now.

“I do yoga at the local gym Wednesday mornings at 11am, if you’re interested.”

“I’m interested. They take non-members?”

“You can come as my guest. My membership includes a Plus One. It’s a ten minute walk from here. I’ll knock for you say 10.30am.”

“It’s a date. Listen, I have a few calls to make. See you tomorrow.”

And with that Nicole went inside, leaving Waverly to contemplate her first outing with the woman next door.


	2. Boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly is intrigued by her new neighbour....

Waverly rang the doorbell. No answer. She waited a few moments, ringing it again in case Nicole hadn’t heard it the first time. Nicole opened the door, phone to her ear, talking. She motioned to Waverly to come in.

“Yes, got it. I’ll check it out. See you later.”

She pointed to the lounge. “Sorry, business. Nearly ready. Take a seat. Just have to find my trainers.”

Nicole had jeans on and a figure-hugging T-shirt, not the clothes you would wear to a gym. She left Waverly in the lounge while she went to find her trainers. The lounge was a similar size to Champ’s. Waverly wondered why Nicole had chosen to rent this apartment rather than something smaller. A few minutes later, Nicole returned wearing black, cropped leggings, black sports bra and a white vest top. She was attempting to pull on a trainer, hopping across the room in the process. Waverly watched in amusement. There was something intriguing about this woman.

The walk to the gym was at a brisk pace. They didn’t have much time before class started. Waverly booked Nicole in and they joined a busy class. So many women doing exercise in the daytime, while their partners presumably worked. Nicole was a natural. She clearly had done yoga before and followed the teacher effortlessly. Waverly could see her eyeing up everyone. Nicole smiled at one attractive woman, who smiled back. Waverly put this down to her being American, friendlier than the British when it came to socialising in exercise classes. 

After the class had finished, Waverly stopped at the reception desk, checking on space in other classes. She turned to see where Nicole was. She was talking with the attractive woman. Waverly saw them swapping phone numbers. Her first thought: Nicole is a fast worker when it comes to getting what she wants. Her second thought: this girl’s got taste when it comes to beautiful things. 

Nicole joined her at the desk.

“Do you fancy grabbing lunch?”

“Sure. There’s a bar near here. Does a mean salad.”

Waverly winked at the attractive woman as she passed, who looked decidedly confused. 

The bar was quiet when they entered. It had a terrace overlooking the Thames. A cool breeze swept across the outside area making it pleasant to sit out. They chose a table nearest to the river, scanning the menus.

“I normally have a liquid lunch,” Waverly laughed, noting the confused look on Nicole’s face.

“We Brits have a reputation to maintain.”

“Oh. Oh, right…yes, you do like to drink…a lot.”

Waverly took Nicole’s food and drink order and headed to the bar. She returned with two large glasses of Pinot Grigio.

Nicole took a glass from Waverly. “But, I ordered diet coke?”

“I know. But, when in Rome. Bottoms up.”

Nicole laughed. She liked her new neighbour.

The conversation was light. Waverly explained she was in between jobs, failing to mention the reason for the departure from her last one. Nicole explained she was in London to research an item that would be coming up for sale. Her client was paying for her stay, provided the piece was secured for him. Waverly was intrigued.

“How did you get into this line of work?”

“My father. Loved antiques. The older the better. I worked with him until I was able to go it alone.”

“Do you travel a lot with the job?”

“Yes. Part of the downside. I need to keep moving, to be where the art takes me.”

Waverly was impressed. What she would give to have a job like Nicole’s. Living out of a suitcase, chasing the next sale. Little did she know what Nicole was telling her was but a play on words to hide what she really did for a living. It’s not something that immediately springs to mind when looking at someone as beautiful as Nicole. 

International thief, wanted in several countries. 

A waiter arrived with their salads. The terrace was filling up, people out enjoying a sunny London afternoon. Waverly wasn’t bored any longer. 

Nicole took another sip of her wine.

“Do you fancy coming to a gallery with me tomorrow?”

“OK. Why not. Can’t remember the last time I visited a gallery. School I think. Which one?”

“Tate Modern. I’m aiming to get there just before lunch. Is that OK?”

“Perfect. Could do another liquid lunch.” Waverly winked, realising she was giving the impression of being an alcoholic.

They strolled back to the apartment block. As they exited the lift on the 4th floor, Waverly could see a man leaning against Nicole’s door. He was older, had a bushy moustache only an American would wear. He was typing something on this phone. He looked up as they approached.

He seemed annoyed at Nicole for whatever reason. “Where have you been?”

“Out. You’re early.”

Waverly hovered, not knowing if she was going to be invited into Nicole’s flat, or left at the door. She was left at the door. Nicole said she would call for her just after 11am, if that suited. It was perfect for Waverly.

She sat on the balcony trying to figure out Nicole. Was she, or wasn’t she? From what she had seen in the gym, she would have to say yes. Although, the man she had let into her flat definitely looked like boyfriend material. So, maybe she wasn’t. There was definitely something intriguing about this woman.


	3. Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole needs to see something with Waverly...

Waverly had been ready since 10am. She had eaten breakfast, showered, touched up her nails, did her hair again. It was 10.30am. She settled down in front of the TV to watch another episode of her new favourite TV show on Netflix. Half way through an episode, the doorbell rang. 

“Ready. Need to get to the Tate before lunchtime.”

Nicole seemed in quite a hurry. They made their way to the station. Standing on the platform, Nicole seemed lost in thought. She was running through something in her head. Waverly felt like a spare part. 

“Sorry, do you want me here?”

Nicole looked confused. “Oh God. Sorry. I get lost in my own world sometimes. Too many things to think about. Of course. Back in the room.”

Her eyes scanned Waverly for the first time. The look told Waverly she had Nicole’s full attention. The very ‘loose’ term for what Nicole did as a job was a distributor of beautiful things. Her real passion was collecting beautiful things and Waverly most definitely fell into that category. She knew not to get too involved with anyone in case they sniffed something was off with the work she did. One night stands, perfect. Casual flings, perfect. Anything longer, more intimate, not perfect. 

She desperately wanted something more. A place to lay her hat. Trusting someone with her life, her less-than legitimate occupation would take a huge leap of faith on Nicole’s part. And, the person she entrusted her life to. That line you say to someone: Hi, will you marry me…Oh, by the way, I’m a thief wanted on several continents.

Why did she steal? Simplest answer. Like father, like daughter. Her dad was in prison for almost getting away with the perfect jewel heist in Belgium. Nicole had learnt everything from him, but when he was arrested and sent to prison she had had to make a decision as to which way she wanted her life to go. She chose the way of her father. 

She was bright. Had attended the best school and college her father’s dubious money could buy, had excelled, but the thrill of getting away with something had seeped into her veins. That, and the glamour of stealing something there’s only one of. When there’s only one of something, it becomes priceless.

They entered the museum. Busy as ever with tourists looking at London. They made their way through the exhibitions. Nicole was more relaxed, but seemed to be scanning her environment at the same time. 

She made small talk with Waverly, but her mind was working overtime: 

Who is on the front desk? 

Look who is serving you as you buy your entry ticket. This person could recognise you again.

How many visitors at lunchtime?

There are less visitors in the rooms as they go for lunch.

How many security guards?

The number doesn’t matter. It’s where they are and what they are doing. Having worked as a guard in a museum for one season, Nicole knew most guards weren’t interested in the artwork. Their focus was on the visitors to the gallery. An item could go missing right under their nose and it could be several days before a guard noticed. 

Are they sitting or patrolling? 

Movement is critical. If sitting, they needed to be distracted. If patrolling, it would give Nicole time to do what she needed to do.

Are they on rotation for lunch?

Guards often change shifts around lunchtime. There’s a ‘golden’ window when one guard shift ends and another is about to begin. Really useful if you wanted to steal something.

What are the floors made of?

Wood preferable. Concrete or marble second. Carpets a definite no. Nicole needed to hear anyone approaching. Carpets made footsteps silent. She needed noise. 

Where are the security cameras positioned?

Security cameras didn’t bother Nicole. Most museums had sub-standard security systems, despite the huge wealth that hung on their walls. Often the security system limped along, with fake cameras positioned over multi-million dollar works of art. 

They walked through the exhibitions. Waverly was awestruck by Picasso. She had never seen his work in real life. When confronted, she spent ages gazing at his contribution to the world and it blew her mind. Nicole noted her reaction. This girl might just get me, she mused.

They made their way to Level 9, where the restaurant was located. Waverly ordered wine and a vegan salad. Nicole ordered the same.

“The man at your apartment. Is he your boyfriend?”

Nicole shot Waverly a look to say, don’t ask me too much about my private life. Nicole put down her fork, pausing for a moment, deciding what she wanted Waverly to know.

“No. He’s my business partner. He sources clients for the pieces I sell. He’s pretty intense. I would have invited you in, but he likes to talk business and nothing else.”

Waverly understood, but she still had no idea what relationship they had. Friend, friend with a lot of benefits, boyfriend, partner. Why should it matter to her? For some reason it did. She didn’t need to ‘work out’ her next door neighbour. Except, she did. And, it unnerved her.

Waverly looked at the time. It was 2.45pm.

“Crap, I’m supposed to be meeting my sister at 3pm. She works near here. Do you want to join us?”

Nicole looked unsure for a moment. She liked Waverly’s company. She could relax with her. Adding someone else into the mix. She was about to say no, but for some reason changed her mind.

“Sure. Can’t stay long though. Got a few calls to make.”

They waited outside The Swan, next to Shakespeare’s Globe theatre. A rather flustered Wynonna approached, talking on her phone. She kissed Waverly on the cheek, smiling at Nicole who was standing behind. She finished her call.

“God, nearly had to cancel. Complete fuck up on one segment in the show.”

“Wynonna, this is Nicole. Nicole, this is my sister Wynonna.”

Wynonna held out her hand for Nicole to shake.

“You both have American names. That’s really cute.”

Wynonna looked at Nicole, not sure what she meant by cute.

“Oh, I can be very cute when I want to be!” winking at Nicole. “Our parents had a thing about America. Think they wanted to live there, but we three came along and stopped that idea. From your accent, looks like Waverly has a thing for America too,” winking once more at Nicole.

Nicole didn’t know how to take Wynonna. She was older, attractive, not her type. Too much raw energy for her taste. She liked her, but was wary. She sensed this woman would be too inquisitive, too demanding. Unlike Waverly, who seemed to go with the flow of life. And, who was the third child?

Nicole stayed for one drink, making her excuses as she finished her glass of wine. Waverly and Wynonna stayed for a few more. They hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks and always had plenty to say when they caught up with each other. 

Waverly entered her apartment shortly after 7pm, slightly tipsy. Throwing off her shoes, she changed into shorts and a T-shirt. Opening the door to the balcony, she could hear Nicole’s voice talking to someone. Someone was on the balcony with her. She had her arms around Nicole’s waist, laughing, looking into her eyes. She saw her move her head towards Nicole’s. She saw the kiss. It was slow, sensuous, sexy. Waverly didn’t want to look, but couldn’t take her eyes off the pair. Nicole had her eyes closed, clearly enjoying the moment. When she opened them, she spotted Waverly standing in the doorway, staring. It didn’t seem to bother her that she had been seen. She took the woman’s hand leading her off the balcony, her eyes still on Waverly. 

A look that suggested, you’re my next conquest.


	4. Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does Nicole want from Waverly...

So that answers part of the question, Waverly thought. 

She had sensed a vibe from Nicole after their first meeting on the balcony, but this confirmed it. Nicole definitely liked women. Waverly could tell when someone liked her, male or female. She sensed Nicole was interested, but Waverly put her in the ‘plays both sides of the field’ category. So, what was her relationship with that man outside her flat, she wondered. And, why was she over-thinking a woman, admittedly an attractive woman, who she had only just met. 

Waverly was finishing a pile of ironing, when the doorbell rang. She was in her customary barely-there shorts and T-shirt, no bra as she wanted to catch a few more rays after slogging over Champ’s work shirts. Nicole was standing in the doorway holding the Tate Modern catalogue she purchased. She looked beyond Waverly into the apartment, hinting she wanted to come in. Waverly was in two minds. She liked Nicole, but after the balcony scene, she wanted to keep their relationship strictly neighbourly.

After an awkward silence, Waverly invited her in. The apartment was a mess. It was on Waverly’s ‘to-do’ list, but domesticity really wasn’t her calling in this life. It was one thing to be at home during the day, it was so not her ‘thing’ to have to do all the chores. She noticed Champ slacking off once he knew she was in the apartment for much of the day. She stopped him calling her ‘wifey’ after the second occasion. 

Girlfriend, yes. Wife, definite No. No ring, No thing, in her books. 

Waverly headed to the kitchen, Nicole following. She wondered why Nicole was holding the catalogue.

She filled the kettle, as Nicole took a seat at the breakfast bar. “Would you like a coffee?”

“Please. Sorry I had to leave yesterday. Had some business to attend to.”

“I saw,” Waverly teased, knowing Nicole had seen her watching the kiss on the balcony.

“Oh, right. Yes, forgot how open these balconies are.”

Waverly’s curiosity got the better of her. “Girlfriend?”

Nicole scanned Waverly’s face. Waverly didn’t seem too concerned at having caught her with Shae on the balcony. Good sign she thought.

“No, I don’t do girlfriends.”

“You were doing that one.” Waverly shot back with a wink, prompting a laugh from Nicole. Perhaps Waverly was like her older sister afterall, able to shoot quick one-line replies.

“What I meant was, my job doesn’t allow me to have a serious relationship, right now. I mean, I want one, but I move about so much it wouldn’t be fair.”

Waverly pondered Nicole’s comment. “Couldn’t they travel with you?”

“True. But, most of the people I’ve dated don’t want to be on the road all the time. Shae lives here. I see her when I’m in town. No strings. She’s married anyway.”

Waverly was not surprised Shae was banging Nicole while married. It wasn’t as if she was a moral compass herself. It did put a different perspective on Nicole. She obviously didn’t mind if someone was attached or not. Fair game. 

Nicole sat fingering the catalogue.

“Do you fancy a drink tomorrow evening?”

Waverly wasn't sure. If she was going to keep this strictly neighbours, perhaps going for a drink wasn't such a good idea. Then again, Charlie would be out partying with the boys. A drink with Nicole, or watching TV all evening on her own. Decisions, decisions. 

“Sure. Why not.”

“8pm, OK?”

“Smart, or casual?”

Nicole scanned Waverly’s body. “Smart. Something sexy!” 

Waverly realised she hadn’t made Nicole a drink. “Sorry, did you want a coffee?”

“No it’s fine. Catch you later.”

It was only after Nicole had left Waverly realised the Tate catalogue was still on the breakfast bar. She flicked through the pages. One painting had been circled. Picasso’s The Dream. The painting Waverly had spent the most time studying. Strange. 

Champ came home in a really good mood. “Babes, we’ve got to have another party. I think I’m in with Ross Kemp. You know Eastenders, Grant Mitchell. Bloke I work with is in his circle.”

Waverly didn’t know him. She was pleased Champ was so happy. He liked rubbing shoulders with celebrities. He fancied himself as a Chelsea wannabe, apart from the fact his North London accent kept him rooted to the other side of the River Thames.

The club Nicole had in mind was different. She was banking on Waverly being game, but this could be make or break how things went forward. They would go to the Retro Bar first, a short walk from the club. It’s where she usually went with Shae. Then Heaven, the venue Nicole craved every time she was in London. She didn’t need to hang out in gay bars and clubs, but she loved the atmosphere of these places. It made her feel welcome, not simply another tourist in another city. It was her home.

Nicole had ordered an Uber to take them to the bar. She didn’t have Waverly’s number, yet. Otherwise, she would have called to say it would be at the apartment block in 15 minutes. Frustrating, as she usually was good with details. Still, she lived next door. She rang the bell, waiting to see what Waverly would be wearing. She was used to Waverly not wearing much, which was perfectly OK with her. Like seeing a Christmas present before it is wrapped.

Waverly opened the door. She was wearing a black figure-hugging dress that did everything for her. Nicole stared, her eyes fixed on the vision before her. She adored beauty, but this made Michelangelo’s Pietà look like a cheap piece of carved rock. Nicole adored form, natural beauty, aesthetics. 

There would be no peaceful sleep until this object of beauty in front of her was acquired.

The bar was busy, the usual vibe of Londoners out enjoying themselves after work. This would not have been on Waverly’s radar before Nicole. She preferred the West End, with all its glitz, but she was definitely enjoying the new experience. Waverly wouldn’t class herself as playing any side of the pitch. She went with her feelings. If she liked someone she went with it. Seeing where it led was half the fun. She had decided Champ was worth a shot after months of him chasing her. She knew she had him, which was reassuring, but also boring. Still, great apartment.

Would she play the field? Perhaps. It all depended on who the person was. Nicole definitely looked fit. Her height, red hair and model features set her apart. They made you look. Waverly liked that. She was used to people looking at her admiringly. Having Nicole with her meant they stood out. Two good looking women makes for an interesting evening on the town.

The queue to get into Heaven was long. Waverly wasn’t really into queues. She and her friends tended to march to the front, chat up the bouncer and get themselves in fairly quickly. If they weren’t given priority treatment, they didn’t bother with that club. Afterall, if a club didn’t appreciate the talent on offer in their group, it wasn’t the sort of club they wanted to be seen in. Nicole took Waverly’s hand and led her to the front of the queue. She spoke briefly with one of the men on the door, who immediately dropped the rope barrier allowing them to enter the club.

It was buzzing. The music was everything Waverly loved. People moving their bodies freely in perfect rhythm. Couples kissing, laughter, people enjoying a night in a party atmosphere. Waverly felt her body begin to move to the music. She put her hands on Nicole’s hips as she was led deeper into the club. This was her. 

They made it to the bar, ordering two bottles of beer. They clinked bottles together toasting a good night, each taking a swig. 

“Ready to make love?”

Waverly nearly spat out her beer hearing this. Nicole took her hand, leading her out to the main dance area. Calvin Harris & Disciples: How Deep is Your Love. Waverly felt the beat take hold of her. Nicole could dance. Oh, my God, could she dance. Waverly watched as she let the music move her body. She couldn’t resist putting one hand on Nicole’s waist and moving with her. She felt Nicole move into a rhythm with her. She felt her getting closer. She felt her drawing into her neck, kissing it softly. She moved her head, searching for Nicole’s lips. She felt the touch. Nicole moved her hands to the small of her back, pulling her in, deepening the kiss. Waverly felt her legs shake. 

The pulse of the music coursing through her body…how deep is your love.


	5. Excuses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly needs time....

OK. Firstly, what just happened? Waverly thought, having shocked herself. Her biggest weakness had always been curiosity. Watching Nicole on the balcony, she wanted to know what it would be like kissing her. Sure, she had done sexy dancing with gal pals in Ibiza. Who hadn’t, when it’s 2am and most of your evening consisted of double-strength cocktails. She had never gone so far as kissing another girl. What made her do it? It didn’t matter. It was so, so good. Thank you curiosity. 

Secondly, which window did keeping this as neighbours fly out of? She had kissed her neighbour. As in, full on the lips, sensuous kissing. It was so, so good. She had gone too far. Her other weakness, the one which got her fired from her last job. If she had simply kept her metaphorical boat tethered instead of rowing it out to sea, she wouldn’t now be frantically attempting to row this little love dinghy back to shore.

She broke away from Nicole, who seemed more than happy to stay locked in their embrace.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…I shouldn’t have.”

Waverly was flustered. This was not how she wanted the evening to go. She pushed her way back to the bar, grabbing her beer. Nicole chased after.

“Hey, it’s OK. Don’t apologise. You’re not that bad at kissing.”

Waverly shot her a look. “Not bad, I’m a fantastic kisser,” realising, as soon as the words left her lips, she should not be debating her technique. Rather, she should be extracting herself from the situation in which she had placed herself. Row, row, row your boat quickly back to shore.

“Can we go?”

Nicole looked confused. “Honestly, it’s OK. If you hadn’t, I would have made the first move. Stay, it’s really OK.”

Waverly was still flustered. “I didn’t make the first move.”

She had, but she really wasn’t dealing with the whole episode using a cool head.

“No, sorry. What I meant was. Listen, let’s just enjoy the evening.”

Waverly wanted to go. She stood, eyes lowered considering her options. She decided staying was the better option, given she would only sit in the apartment alone stewing on what she had done. Plus, the atmosphere in Heaven was incredible. If she understood herself a little better, she would have realised already it was what had made her give in to temptation.

The Uber driver dropped them outside their apartment block shortly after 1am. They were silent during the ride. They were silent in the lift. Waverly wanted to say something. The tension between them fizzed in the air like static electricity. She decided, better for this to simmer than grab Nicole and kiss her again, which is what she wanted to do. She was keeping that little love boat well and truly anchored this time. As she reached the door to her apartment, she looked at Nicole.

“I’m sorry I freaked. It was amazing. You’re not a bad kisser yourself. See you on the balcony.”

With that, she let herself into the apartment, leaving Nicole standing watching her, wondering if that would be the last time they went anywhere together.

Nicole poured herself a whiskey. Standing on the balcony, the breeze of the night cooling the passion she was feeling for Waverly. She glanced at the lounger on Waverly’s side. 

There’s a phrase: coup de coeur. It literally means ‘a blow to the heart.’ It’s having a sudden, strong attraction to something, as in falling for something, someone. It’s not the same as love at first sight. That suggests the attraction is mutual. From her sudden change of heart in the nightclub, Nicole sensed Waverly wasn’t ready for anything more than friends. Nicole was used to feeling a blow to the heart. Her job entailed chasing coveted pieces that made her and her clients swoon at the thought of owning. 

She had always been sensitive to beauty. It was her weakness. She could look at something, someone beautiful and it would bring her to tears. Pulling her into a lover’s kiss. Like Waverly.

When her father went to prison, she questioned her choice of work. She didn’t need the money. She didn’t need the risk of prison. And yet. And yet, she needed something from it. Like an addict. Something kept her hooked. Having tried to fight it, seeing how her father’s life had ripped apart their family, her mother leaving when she was only seven, she knew she couldn’t. So, she turned the question 180 degrees. What if she didn’t resist temptation? What if, she fed temptation and, in doing so, freed herself from the society’s moral handcuffs. 

An image of Waverly handcuffed in her bed entered her mind. 

Nicole’s phone woke her. It was Doc, her so-called business partner. He had a new client request while she was in London. He would be over in fifteen minutes. He preferred not to give too much information over the phone. He was old school, relying on talking to someone in person, rather than using new technology, which he considered unsafe for the line of work they were in.

He was older than Nicole, a close friend of her father, who promised to keep her safe while he was inside. He was good to Nicole, but he expected her to perform. There was nothing between them. He knew she wasn’t into men, which kept their relationship strictly business. 

The way he liked. 

Nicole was right when she explained to Waverly Doc was intense. He knew one slip, one wrong move would cost both of them their freedom, their lives in the wrong situation. He trusted Nicole. He knew her father had trained her exceptionally well. She was a natural. One of the best he’d worked with. Her coolness, her ability to move without people suspecting what she was doing stood her apart. He had worried initially her beauty would be a problem. Men and women saw her. As much as she adored beauty. She was a walking piece of art in her own right. 

She had learnt to use that to her advantage. Afterall, who would suspect someone as beautiful, as well-dressed as Nicole to be a thief? Her father had said to her over and over: The best crimes are those no one spots being committed. A slight of hand, the move in broad daylight, as others are distracted.

A magician.

Nicole listened in awe as her father taught her his profession during the time they spent together. She worshipped him. He was her magician.

“My child, you need to be a predator.” 

“Control your gestures, your words, your reflexes.”

“Pounce the moment you sense attention is diverted.”

Nicole would lie in wait for Waverly.


	6. Fake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole is on the scent of Waverly...

The real art of theft is not in the stealing. It’s the selling. 

That is where Doc came in. He was known for his ability to secure items his clients wanted for their private collections. They desired to own something, even if it meant it was not acquired legitimately. Even if it meant keeping it out of sight. The value of a painting or antique went down considerably once stolen. It became hot, unable to be sold on the open market. That didn’t worry Doc. He knew he could still extract a fair price. If a collector was desperate enough to have a stolen piece, they were prepared to pay for it. 

His real name was John Henry Holliday, but everyone knew him as Doc. His other line of work was that of master forger, able to ‘doctor’ a painting to make unsuspecting buyers think it was by someone more famous. Hence his nickname. 

The client for Nicole’s next theft was a regular, with a passion for small expensive trinkets. He normally made a request every couple of months for a new piece for his private collection. His latest indulgence was an Eighteenth Century snuffbox made of green chrysoprase stone, featuring an intricate pattern detailed in gold and diamonds. It had belonged to Frederick II, King of Prussia. Snuff boxes were used as containers for 'snuff,' a powdered form of tobacco. Popular in that era, those partaking inhaled or 'snuffed' it up their nose, delivering a direct hit of nicotine.

Value: $800,000. 

The collector was as much interested in the snuffbox’s original owner as he was in the item. It was said the King had a passion for poetry, the flute and men. He had a string of male lovers, mostly officers from the Prussian army. The collector desired to caress the box that had once been touched by the hands of this particular King.

Doc never revealed how he acquired a piece. He kept Nicole’s involvement hidden, letting clients believe he was the thief. It didn’t matter to them who was involved, as long as they got what they wanted. Doc did this to honour his promise to his friend about keeping Nicole safe. The less people knew about her, the better. He also didn’t want clients going direct to her. He needed his cut as the middle man. Nicole was happy to do the work and be paid her share. She never asked how much a job was worth. Doc sometimes felt she would steal for nothing, deriving her pleasure from knowing she could take pretty much anything she fancied. 

Theft was a two-day operation. The first day involved viewing the piece to be acquired and its location. The second was acquisition day. Nicole called Day 2, her quiet day, since she needed to calm her thoughts and emotions in preparation for her actions. She needed to reach her place of sangfroid - the place where she was in self-possession, especially under strain. Once or twice she had carried out a theft on the same day as casing a place. The opportunity presented itself and she took it. Job done.

Nicole would run through her movements for the theft, what she would need to bring with her, check exits for a getaway. She never moved quickly, it would bring too much attention. She moved slowly, even with a stolen item in her possession, often spending an hour walking round other exhibitions before leaving.

Small items are the easiest to steal. Easy to slip out of a case, easy to place in a bag, or pocket. If required, Nicole would place a card she had with her in the space where the item had been on display, which read: 

Object Removed for Cleaning 

Amazing how few people, guards included, question such a sign. So clever in its simplicity. So effective.

If an item was in a case, a small screwdriver could lever a sliding door off its tracks. A box cutter could slice open a silicone joint. For museums with older display cases, a set of passkeys, or master keys might be needed. Such keys were able to gain access to almost all cases. She had been given a set by her father. She treasured them. Invariably one of the keys could tumble the lock. A telescopic antenna could be used to nudge a security camera in a different direction. 

She dressed smartly. Usually a designer suit, dark colours, low heels. She carried a small bag, big enough to fit the item and whatever tools would be required. For this job all she would need was a small leather bag across her body unzipped. It had a secret compartment at the bottom for her tools. Guards at the front door of museums rarely searched a woman’s bag thoroughly if there were sanitary products inside. As soon as she was in the museum she would visit the ladies toilet and extract her tools in readiness for the job. She only ever brought what she needed, otherwise her bag would feel heavier than expected. Every detail had to be thought through in case it raised suspicion.

She had returned from casing the Victoria and Albert Museum in Knightsbridge, where the piece about to be stolen was on display. She had spotted a couple of other pieces she adored, but would leave those for another time. 

It was a simple enough job. She knew what she had to do.

As she put her key in the door, she heard Waverly’s open. They stood looking at each other.

Waverly eyed Nicole’s outfit. “Business meeting?”

“Oh. Err, yes. Client was in town. You going out?”

“Chips. Bored. Can’t be bothered cooking. You want some?”

She wanted to go with Waverly, but something told her to hold back, let Waverly make the moves.

“Sure. Do you need any money?”

“No. My treat. Back in fifteen.”

Nicole entered the apartment, changing into more casual clothes, pouring herself a whiskey. The doorbell told her Waverly had returned. What is it with the British eating fries wrapped in paper? she pondered. Still, if it meant more time with Waverly.

“I didn’t know if you wanted vinegar on yours.”

“Thanks. It’s fine. Do you want to come in?”

Waverly hesitated. She did, but she didn’t want Nicole to think there might be anything between them. Then again, Nicole might think she was being rude not going in. She moved into the apartment, two portions of warm chips in paper accompanying her.

Nicole pulled out plates and motioned to the balcony. They sat quietly eating. Both wanted to say something about what happened in Heaven, neither knowing how to address the elephant in the room. Waverly couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“Look, I’m sorry about what I did. I shouldn’t have. It’s just, I was curious, and…” she trailed off.

“Waverly, it’s OK. It was amazing. But, I understand if it’s not something you want to take further. I’m cool with us being friends, if you are.”

Nicole could see Waverly breathe a sigh of relief. She also saw her eyes spark at the mention of taking it further. Nicole had to be observant. She could read a person’s body language in milliseconds, often intuitively. She could sense Waverly wanted something more from her. The moment wasn’t right. But she knew it would come. 

The doorbell rang, startling both of them. Doc was outside. Nicole let him into the apartment. He saw Waverly on the balcony. He scowled at Nicole, as if to suggest: don’t get too comfortable with your neighbour. Waverly saw Doc’s expression. Something made her feel uncomfortable around him. She suddenly felt unwelcome. She stood, walking into the lounge. Nicole realised she was leaving.

“Stay. This won’t take long.”

“No, it’s fine. Need to tidy the apartment before Champ gets home. We’re having a party, tomorrow night if you’re around.”

Waverly smiled at Doc, who attempted a smile back. It was fake, like his art.

The stolen snuffbox now in the safe in her bedroom, Nicole settled down for a quiet evening. It was only when she heard people laughing on the balcony of Waverly’s apartment, she remembered they were having a party. She wasn’t in the mood. It usually took her several hours to come down from the high of stealing. It tended to make her hyper. And yet. And yet, it would give her an opportunity to meet Champ. She had heard him coming and going, but hadn’t actually seen him. There were no photos of him on display in the apartment. 

Like Waverly, curiosity got the better.

The party had been in full swing for over an hour when Nicole made an appearance. Waverly opened the door, smiling. God, Waverly knew how to dress to impress. Nicole scanned her outfit quickly without making it too obvious. She handed Waverly the bottle of red wine she had brought. Nicole could see guests looking as she entered. A couple of the men were eyeing her appreciatively, fancying their chances. Waverly moved through the guests towards a man with black hair, his back to them. He was talking to a couple. She placed her hand on his shoulder to get his attention. He turned spotting Nicole standing behind Waverly. Nicole could tell he was eyeing her up too. 

“Charlie, this is Nicole. Nicole, Charlie.”

“Hi, Charlie. Love your apartment.”

“Thanks. Everyone calls me Champ. It’s only Waverly who doesn’t. She prefers Charlie.”

Waverly rolled her eyes. “And, this is my friend Chrissy and her boyfriend Joe.”

Chrissy smiled as Joe held out his hand to shake Nicole’s. 

Chrissy appeared friendly. As attractive as Waverly, perhaps a year or two older. Everyone seemed to have dressed for the occasion. Nicole spotted Wynonna on the balcony in a very expensive black dress. Waverly went to get Nicole a drink, leaving her in the company of Champ.

“Waverly says you’re here on business.”

“Couple of weeks, then I’ll be gone.”

Chrissy joined in the conversation. “Love your accent. Waverly mentioned you are American.”

“Thanks. Are you from London? I have trouble knowing which part of the country people are from over here.”

“Born and bred. Really want to visit America. Joe and I might go to Florida if he plays his cards right.”

Joe smiled, giving Chrissy a kiss on the cheek. Champ was quick to make fun of this action.

“Mate, steady on there. What will the neighbours think?” winking at Nicole.

He seemed good fun. Handsome, not in the way Nicole expected. She couldn’t picture Champ and Waverly as a couple. Possibly because she didn’t want to picture them together. She didn’t want Waverly to be with anyone else. She wanted possession. 

Waverly returned with a drink. They made their way to the balcony to Wynonna. She was deep in conversation with a man. Nicole wasn’t sure if she recognised him from the TV. They stood patiently waiting for Wynonna to pause, the man looking over several times at Nicole. Eventually Wynonna realised she had company. Turning, she recognised Nicole.

“Sorry, hi again. Andi, this is Waverly’s neighbour Nicole.”

They made small talk. Andi told them Piers Morgan was as annoying in person as he is on TV. It’s always interesting getting the low down from insiders. Nicole stayed for the rest of the evening, enjoying the company. All the time she was socialising, she observed Waverly. She saw her mixing with guests, laughing, getting them more drinks. She saw her touching Champ's neck. Hair.

Nicole’s mind was hatching a plan.


	7. Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly holds the key...

Doc inspected the stolen snuffbox. He knew his client was desperate to have this in his hands. So much money for something so small. But then, each to their own.

He laughed at the absurdity of their respective roles in his client’s fetish. 

“Top dollar for a wank.”

Nicole wasn’t sure what he meant by this. She didn’t know the client, but from what Doc said, it was a man who got off on these artefacts.

“Your neighbour seems keen.”

Nicole shot Doc a look to say, none of your business. She knew Doc was like a father. She knew he only meant well. But, he wasn’t her actual father. 

Doc had a business interest in her. He wasn’t concerned with how her heart functioned. 

That was hers to navigate. Along with all the crimes she committed for him.

She was perfectly OK being his partner in crime. 

She wasn’t OK being his puppet. 

No man ruled over her heart.

She did what she pleased.

Except for her father.

She adored him.

Her father.

“I don’t need to be protected from love. If you hadn’t realised, I’m a grown woman. Capable of managing my own relationships.”

Doc looked at her, realising Nicole was falling for Waverly, realising she was letting emotions rule her.

“Like Shae?”

That triggered Nicole. Shae was her safe place to go to in all this mess. She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t expect anything from Nicole. She let her be all that she was in this crazy world she inhabited.

“Go to Hell.”

Doc knew he had touched a nerve. He was silent. He needed Nicole on his side.

“Just don’t give her your heart.”

He put the snuffbox in a leather pouch he had brought with him.

He kissed Nicole on the cheek. “Nicole, your dad would be very proud of you.”

He turned to leave. Nicole had tears in her eyes.

She needed someone to love her.

Waverly was out sunbathing topless, again. She really wasn’t taking job hunting seriously. She had her headphones on, the music low enough to hear Nicole come out. She kept her eyes closed, knowing Nicole was probably staring. She could feel her, even though she couldn’t see her. 

Jan Blomqvist - The Space In Between (Ben Böhmer Remix) was playing.

She couldn’t resist. She opened her eyes. Nicole had her back against the balcony gazing at her.

“You’ll go blind.”

Nicole smiled. A sad smile. Waverly picked up on this immediately. “Hey, you alright?”

Nicole was silent. Wait, were there tears in her eyes? “Hey, Nicole, you OK?”

Nicole remained silent. “Do you want to come over?”

Nicole disappeared inside. Waverly didn’t know if she was or wasn’t coming round.

The doorbell rang. OK, she was. She went to the door.

Nicole stood motionless, diving into Waverly’s eyes. Such beauty in human form. Waverly could see the tears.

“Hey, babes, come in. What’s the matter?”

There were no words to explain what she was about to do. What she needed to do. 

Temptation once fed, doesn’t fade away. It gets hungrier. 

Without its fix, it drives a person to distraction. Nicole knew if she didn’t feed that temptation, she would be driven mad. It could cause her to make a mistake on a job and ruin everything. Her plan was to take Waverly in broad daylight. The best plans are often the simplest.

Approaching Waverly, she took her hand leading her to the balcony.

“Here. I need you here.” 

It was all Nicole needed to say, before moving to kiss Waverly in the most passionate way she had ever experienced.

No more resistance. 

Waverly knew, in that moment, this was what she wanted, what she needed, with all her body. She wanted, needed to be taken.

Waverly moved towards the lounger. They were on display, yet with enough privacy to do what they wanted. And, they wanted. Waverly lay back, Nicole knelt, her hands moving to Waverly’s bikini bottom. 

Discarding it, she looked into Waverly’s eyes. 

She was ready. No foreplay, no build up, straight to what she wanted most. She dipped her head, moving Waverly’s legs to give her entry. Waverly nearly passed out with the sensation. 

Everything. 

Everything she wanted to experience with Nicole was happening right there, in that moment, on her balcony. 

Heaven. 

Most of London probably heard her scream as she reached her first orgasm. Her body shaking as Nicole continued to move her tongue, her fingers having gained entry at the moment she felt Waverly nearing the edge. She begged Nicole not to stop. Her body couldn’t get enough. 

If this was what being unemployed was like, she fucking loved her life right now.

Gasping, she pushed Nicole’s head away, needing time to recover. Nicole sensed she needed to slow things down. Removing her fingers, she looked into Waverly’s eyes. Her pupils were fully dilated. She smiled. Her hunger had been fed. She stood up, taking Waverly’s hand once more, leading her back into the lounge.

“Which bedroom?”

The flat had three large bedrooms. Handy for guests staying over, storage and making love to your neighbour in the afternoon. Waverly pointed to the second door off the lounge. Entering, Nicole felt overdressed next to Waverly’s nakedness. She removed her top and bra, Waverly standing in the doorway watching, her pupils still dilated. Nicole pulled her to the bed, stepping out of her pumps, pushing down her jeans, removing the last item of clothing. 

They were finally in the space to be together. 

Nicole let Waverly explore her body. She was curious, insatiable, emotional. Nicole had had plenty of partners, but this was different. 

She felt Waverly seeping into her. 

She couldn’t push her away. 

She couldn’t fight her. 

She couldn’t stop her. 

As Waverly brought pleasure to her body, Nicole could feel the door being unlocked to her heart. 

Waverly had the master key.


	8. Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Temptation needs to be fed...

Nicole didn’t want to leave. Waverly didn’t want her to leave, but Champ would be back in a little under an hour and she needed to prepare the evening meal. They had spent the afternoon getting to know each other’s body. Waverly followed Nicole's lead. For someone who had never been with a woman, Waverly was a quick learner. She wanted to know everything. There was so much more to reveal. Now wasn’t the time. 

Nicole dressed reluctantly. She could have stayed forever in Waverly’s arms. She felt safe. She also felt safe with Shae. But, being married kept their relationship at a distance. Nicole knew Shae wasn’t going to leave her partner. It gave her the freedom to come and go as she pleased. Something was different between her and Waverly. A deeper connection to another. She couldn’t bear the thought of Champ being with her. Possessing her. She wanted only her eyes to gaze upon her beautiful form. 

Her next theft? Stealing Waverly from Champ.

The early evening news was on. Waverly was half paying attention, her mind on other things. One person in particular. The newsreader moved to the next item.

“Tate Modern today released details on the theft of two paintings. The museum chose not to release details of the theft sooner as they were working with investigators to recover the artworks. They are now appealing to the general public for any information on the whereabouts of the two paintings: Dod Procter’s - The Orchard and Picasso’s - The Dream.” 

Waverly’s ears pricked up hearing the title of the second painting. The very one she had spent time looking at, the one circled in Nicole’s catalogue. Wow, what were the chances? she wondered. 

She would have to tell Nicole.

Champ arrived home. He was tired. He had been working really hard on an investment deal. If successful, it would mean a huge bonus. Was it wrong for Waverly to be shagging her neighbour while he was out at work? Perhaps. They weren’t married, or engaged, but she recognised it was a betrayal of the trust they had with each other. Did she feel bad? A little. She and Nicole had only slept together once. Nicole said she didn’t do girlfriends. This might go nowhere. It might only be for whatever time Nicole was in the country. Afterall, Nicole moved about with her job. She probably would be moving on shortly. Waverly hoped not too soon. 

“Babes, I have to go to Rome on Thursday. Big deal on. Joe’s going too. You could ask Chrissy if she wants to stay for a few days, while the boys do The Italian Job.”

He thought he was being clever calling his business trip ‘The Italian Job.’ Little did he know he was nearer the truth than he realised. Someone was planning to steal his most valuable possession. 

Waverly would have preferred not to have Chrissy stay. She could have spent the time with Nicole. Sensing it would appear odd not inviting her, she decided better to go down that route than raise suspicion. Plus, she would have Nicole to herself during the day, while Chrissy was at work.

As soon as Champ left the next morning, Waverly was at Nicole’s door. Nicole let her in. She was still in her night wear. Waverly pulled her into the lounge. Temptation needed its fix. Nicole motioned to the open door of her bedroom. They wasted no time resuming what they left off the day before. 

Waverly’s head was resting on Nicole’s chest, both spent from several hours of love making. “Did you see the news last night? That painting I really liked at Tate Modern has been stolen.”

“Really. Which one?”

“The Dream. Strange, because it was the only one you circled in the catalogue.”

“Oh, right. That one. What are the chances?”

“I know. That’s exactly what I thought. Spooky. Mind you, at least I got to see it before it was taken.”

“It’s worth a lot of money. The last time it was sold, it went for $155 million. Did you know it was damaged? Last owner put his elbow through it. Cost him a $90,000 repair bill.”

Wow, Nicole really did know her art, Waverly thought. She was impressed. She had looked at the painting and enjoyed its erotic content, giggling when she spotted the erect penis Picasso had painted as part of the woman’s face. Nicole knew the painting intimately. 

Chrissy plonked her overnight bag in the guest bedroom. She was looking forward to spending an evening with her good friend. They had a lot to catch up on. They saw each other less frequently, now Chrissy was with Joe. She hoped the boys would be OK in Italy, realising they probably were already out on the town, drinking wine, enjoying the Italian night life. She trusted Joe. She knew Champ was just as smitten with Waverly to do anything behind her back.

They settled down to watch a film on Netflix, a second bottle of white wine open in front of them, the remains of an Indian take away on the breakfast bar. 

“Is your American neighbour still in town?”

“I think so. Haven’t seen her in a while.”

What Waverly meant by ‘in a while’ was four hours ago. Nicole said she had some business to attend to. Waverly pouted, wanting to know whether that ‘business’ was called Shae.

“Oh, my God. You’re jealous of Shae.”

“No, I’m not. It’s just. You’re doing me now. I just thought perhaps I could be your only business.”

Nicole grabbed Waverly, pulling her into a deep kiss.

“Relax. You are. Promise. Trust me?”

“Yes. I trust you.”

“Anyway, you’re doing Champ.”

“True. I prefer doing you. You don’t have a beard.”

Nicole laughed. Only Waverly could say something that silly and be adorable.

Chrissy left for work Friday morning, slightly hung over from the two bottles of wine they had consumed the night before. Waverly would meet her after work at a bar in the City. She liked going out in London on a Friday evening. Everyone relaxing after a long week. She was tempted to invite Nicole, but she didn’t want to mix 'business' with pleasure. Plus, Chrissy might sense the vibe between them, something she didn’t want getting back to Joe, or Champ.

She knocked on Nicole’s door. No answer. She rang the doorbell. Still no answer. She wasn’t sure if she had heard Nicole return yesterday evening. She sent her a text. Her number was stored under a completely different name. Nicole’s suggestion, in case someone happened to scroll through her phone and wonder why she had her number. Waverly thought this was genius. She felt like a spy, no a thief with the pretence. She was sure the thrill of not getting caught added to the intensity of their love making. Either that, or they were really, really compatible. Their chemistry was off the chart.

Sitting on the lounger, she gazed over at Nicole’s balcony. She would catch a few rays before lunch, clear away last night’s meal, get ready for her evening out. She went to lay down on the lounger and immediately had to get up. Nope, too many good memories. She headed for the shower.

The sudden need to release the tension in her body. Where was Nicole?

Waverly had just come out of the shower when her phone vibrated with a message.

Nicole: Sorry angel. Be round in 30

Waverly: Couldn’t wait. Had to take a shower…

Nicole: Take one together?

Waverly: HURRY…

"Alexa play: Above and Beyond - Liquid Love."


	9. Inquisitiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly learns more about Nicole...

Shower sex with Nicole was everything she hoped it would be. And, more. So, so much more. The water cascading over their bodies as Nicole fucked her against the stone-tiled walls. Whether it was the heat in the shower, or the intensity of what they were doing, Waverly’s legs gave out, Nicole only just managing to catch her as she slumped to the floor.

“You OK?”

“Oh, my God. So, so OK.”

She pulled Nicole into a kiss. One both of them never wanted to end.

“I have another business meeting. I’ll be back early afternoon. What time is Champ back?”

“Late. I'm out with Chrissy later.”

“Fine. Still gives us a few hours. OK, if I finish off here. Give me a few minutes.”

Waverly left Nicole to finish showering. She lay on the bed, content with the world. Nicole’s wardrobe was partially open. She owned some amazing designer suits. Waverly was curious if any of the jackets would fit her given their different size. She opened the door fully, taking down a navy blue tailored jacket to try on. 

That’s when she noticed the safe on the floor. Its door partially open as well. She didn’t want to look. Afterall, this was Nicole’s apartment, her safe. Whatever was in the safe was personal to Nicole. 

Curiosity got the better.

She peaked inside. Several passports, Dollars, Euros, a very expensive watch and what looked like a notebook. A diary perhaps. Waverly knew she was going too far. She extracted the notebook. It had a hard, navy blue cardboard covering, A4 in size. Simple, nothing fancy.

She opened it, starting at the first page:

March 24, 2007 – 16th century small silver case, Musée d’Orsay, Paris France 

July 27, 2007 – 17th century manuscript, Leopold Museum, Vienna Austria

….

Pages, upon pages of entries of items from museums, galleries, churches, art fairs.

….

Latest entries in the journal: the two paintings stolen from Tate Modern and a small snuff box from the V&A Museum. 

Waverly sat staring at the words on the page. She couldn’t breathe. If what she suspected was true, Nicole was an international criminal, capable to stealing a Picasso from a major London gallery. She didn’t know what to do. Shaking, she put the notebook back in the safe. She heard the water being turned off in the shower. Nicole emerged, still dripping. She dried herself off in front of Waverly, who had jumped back on the bed.

“Ready for round two?”

“Sure." Her voice giving away something was wrong.

“You OK?”

“Yes. Come here.”

Nicole could sense the moment she touched Waverly something was wrong. Her muscles weren’t as relaxed. She seemed to be processing something. She was looking at her in a different way.

Nothing felt right. The chemistry, the connection had gone.

Nicole sat up. 

“Are you OK?”

“I….I… Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Waverly sprang off the bed, grabbing her clothes, leaving Nicole utterly confused. 

Waverly needed to get away. Anywhere, but here right now. Why? Why? She’s perfect. Why? 

She grabbed her bag and jacket from her apartment. She knew the only person she could turn to in a crisis like this was her older sister. She sent a text to Chrissy saying she wasn't feeling well and could she take a rain check on drinks this evening. She sent another text to Wynonna.

Waverly: r u free 4 a drink now?

Wynonna: Sure. u OK?

Wynonna was an Executive Producer on one of ITV’s major shows. It was stressful, long hours and she loved it. She had offered to get Waverly a job, but Waverly didn’t want to work with Wynonna. She loved her, but, honestly couldn’t live, or work with her. She was too high maintenance. 

Waverly hovered outside Wynonna’s building. She needed to speak to her sister. Get her judgment. She knew she was shrewd. She would know the best way to go forward on this.

“Fucking, fucking set designers. Seriously, if they could have fucked up any more than they already fucked up, it would be the biggest fuck up in the history of fuck ups.”

Waverly sensed Wynonna wasn't having the best of days.

“You OK?”

“Yeah. So, ready for a drink. Honestly, set designers, utter fuckwits.”

They headed to the nearest quiet bar. Waverly sat nursing her wine. Wynonna sat stewing on the day’s fuck up. Waverly needed to get things off her chest.

“Listen. Can I tell you something?”

“Sure, as long as it doesn’t involve fucking set designers.”

“I’m sort of banging my neighbour.”

That got Wynonna’s attention.

“Tell me more. Who is he?”

“She.”

Wynonna put her glass down. Waverly could see she was trying to process what she had just heard.

“Not the American?”

“Nicole.”

“Oh, my God. Seriously. I didn’t know you were into chicks. Good for you. She’s hot?”

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

“What?” She is.”

“No. Her surname is Haught.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me?”

“Listen. That’s not all I need to tell you.”

“She’s married? She has kids? Tell me she’s a spy?”

“International art thief.”

Wynonna’s mouth fell open.

“No. What? Nicole. No. Fuck me…Seriously, you’re telling me Nicole steals things. Like, steals things for a living. Tell me more.”

Waverly went on to explain how she had accidentally found Nicole’s meticulous catalogue of stolen items in her safe. How she had gone through the list and seen the two paintings listed that were stolen from the Tate Modern. How she and Nicole had visited Tate Modern. How she had admired Picasso’s The Dream. How Nicole had commented on Procter’s The Orchard. She didn’t want it to be true, but she knew in her heart what Nicole was. 

“Dude, I don’t know what to say. What about Champ?”

Waverly hadn’t considered Champ in any of this. 

"Baby girl. I think you need to step back from this. If she is what you say she is. That's serious. I don't want you getting hurt. You don't know who this girl is mixed up with. Seriously, step away now, before it's too late.

Wynonna was right. She knew she was right. And, yet. And, yet.

Nicole had sent countless texts. None of which Waverly replied to. Her messages were getting increasingly frantic, until the last one. 

Nicole: Did you read my journal?

Waverly: Can we talk?


	10. Jewels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole comes clean...

Waverly had only just closed the door to her apartment, when she heard the knock. Nicole was standing in the corridor, blue journal in her hand. Waverly didn’t know what to say. She felt guilty at having read it. She felt betrayed this was Nicole’s real life. She felt a complete fool for having been taken in. She felt love for the woman standing before her.

Nicole had tears in her eyes once more. She wanted to be loved. She saw how Waverly looked at her now. It crushed her. She knew what she did couldn’t be explained. That’s why she kept it hidden. Who would be brave enough to stand with her, no matter what?

“Nicole, I’m sorry. I….”

“You know.”

“I can’t deal with this right now.”

“When? Will there ever be a time you deal with this?”

“Nicole, I don’t know. Fuck, why? Doesn’t matter. God, I love you. But, this?”

Nicole broke down. Her whole life was unravelling before her. Everything she did, everything she feared was being realised in that moment. Waverly’s heart broke too. The enormity of the situation drowning her. The two stood crying, looking into each other’s eyes.

“Waverly, don’t throw me away. Please, I’m begging you.”

Waverly pulled Nicole towards her. Holding her as they both let their hearts break.

“Nicole. I love you. But, this is really, really fucked up. OK. I need time to think.”

Waverly’s mind was in overdrive. She knew she only had two choices.

“My darling, I just need to figure out where I am in all of this.”

This seemed to calm Nicole. Waverly had never seen her so emotional. She loved her, adored her, but at the same time Nicole had lied about who she really was. That little word.

Trust.

Could she ever trust Nicole? 

Could she ever trust herself?

Waverly looked at Nicole, unable to know what to do, where to go with this. Nicole was looking at her like an orphan child abandoned at a railway station.

“Can I stay with you for a while?”

Waverly led her into the lounge. They sat hugging on the sofa. Champ would be in soon, but it no longer mattered. She could always explain Nicole’s presence as a cry for help, boyfriend troubles, given both clearly looked like they had been crying. 

She heard the key in the door. Nicole released herself from their embrace. She passed Champ in the hall, her head down, blue journal in her hand. 

“What’s up with Nicole?

“Oh, the usual. Boyfriend dumped her.”

“Bastard. Still, a couple of my mates are keen. Do you want me to give them her number?”

“Best not. I think she’s not into men right now.”

Waverly spent a restless night struggling with everything she now knew. Would it have been better not to know? What did she want? Was Nicole worth all the hassle? Did she want to have someone in her life with that kind of baggage? Stolen, expensive baggage to be precise.

Dawn came. She still hadn’t slept. She was exhausted. She didn’t know what to do. She lay in bed as Champ got ready to go to the gym. He left shortly after 8.30am. She heard the doorbell a few minutes later.

Nicole looked equally wrecked. Entering the apartment, she took Waverly’s hand leading her to the bedroom.

“No. I can’t. Nicole. I can’t.”

There was no negotiation. Nicole’s emotions were raw. She needed Waverly beside her. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.

They lay in bed. Nicole's side smelt of Champ. The sadness between them was palpable.

“If I go with you. Nicole, this is a huge leap for me. It has to be all or nothing. I have to know. God, I can’t believe I’m saying this. I have to know you’ll keep us safe. I can’t even get my head around all of this. But, right now. You need to promise me you’ll keep us safe.”

“I promise. With my life.”

It was the first kiss they shared where honesty was on their lips.

They wrapped their arms around each other.

"Nicole, Champ will be back soon. Can I come round later?"

Nicole knew she needed to give Waverly the space to consider her options. She kissed her, leaving her to make her decision on her future. 

Stepping out on the balcony, feeling the sun warming her, she knew she couldn’t abandon Nicole. She knew even with the enormity of what she now knew about her, she was in too deep. It’s strange. She baulked at Champ calling her ‘wifey,’ yet, was accepting of the fact her new lover was an international thief, probably wanted in different countries. 

Curious what love does to us.

Champ was keen to try a new bistro for lunch. A short walk from the apartment. Waverly said she just needed to check on Nicole before they went.

She entered Nicole's flat. Sitting on the sofa, she was silent. What she was about to say would change the course of her life. 

“Nicole. I’ve made my decision.”

Nicole looked worried. She feared Waverly would not be able to take her on, now knowing what she did. What she had done.

“Together. OK.”

Nicole couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She knew Waverly was making that huge leap of faith for her. She wouldn’t let her down. She couldn’t let her down. She was her life.

“So, where now?”

Nicole knew honesty needed to be on the table from this point onwards.

“I’m here for a big job. Everything else was just to keep me from being bored.”

Waverly let out a laugh. The one thing she constantly struggled with was boredom. And, here she was listening to Nicole explain her way of dealing with boredom was to steal a Picasso.

“OK. So do I need to know the details?”

“I can go through it with you. But…” Nicole trailed off.

“But, what?”

“It’s just. I work alone.”

“For fuck sake Nicole, just tell me what you’re up to.”

“I’m here for the Cullinan diamonds.”

“The what?”

“The two major diamonds in the Crown Jewels, kept in the Tower of London.” 

Waverly’s mouth fell open. “You have got to be fucking kidding me, right?”

“Yep. I just wanted to see the look on your face.”

Waverly realised Nicole was joking. She punched her hard on the arm.

“Not even fucking funny,” she said, laughing, breathing a sigh of relief. “OK, why are you really here?”

“A painting. Doc's client wants a Monet. It’ll be tricky, but perfectly within my scope.”

“So, where are the other two paintings?”

“You’ll see.”


	11. Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly has time to think...

Champ would be around most of the weekend. Waverly knew she would need to come clean with him eventually, but she needed time to process everything. She was unsure whether she had made the right decision. It felt right, but was it simply an emotional response to everything that was happening? She needed to process it with a cool head. So many thoughts. So much information.

She sat moving a piece of lettuce around her plate. Champ had finished his lunch ages ago. He had been talking to her, without realising she was lost in her own thoughts. Looking up, having asked her a direct question and getting no response, he saw she wasn’t paying attention. Something was different about her.

“Babes, you OK? You seem really quiet.”

“Oh. Sorry. Yes, fine. Just feeling a little under the weather.”

She realised she would need to keep up the appearance of the interested girlfriend for a while longer.

“I’m glad your deal went through. When will you know about the bonus?”

“Soon. I was thinking we could go on holiday. Joe is taking Chrissy to Florida with his bonus. We could join them, or go somewhere ourselves. What do you think?”

“Sounds great. I’m cool either way.”

Champ put Waverly’s less than bubbly response down to her not feeling too well. She looked pale and tired. She didn’t seem in the mood the past few days, certainly not since he returned from Italy. A holiday would do her the world of good, he concluded.

Nicole sat in her lounge thinking about Waverly. She knew she wouldn’t see her again till Monday, when Champ left for work. She couldn’t risk texting her. She had warned her to delete all their messages in case Champ or someone read them. Waverly’s phone buzzing with a sexy message would not help the situation. 

Waverly knowing about her life was a huge risk. Nicole wondered if subconsciously she had wanted her to find out, leaving the safe open for this to happen. She was usually extremely careful about locking it. The irony. A safe breaker having their own safe and locking it! Why had she left it open? 

Had she wanted Waverly to find her journal? 

Either way, the truth was out. Her life now included Waverly. Telling Doc would be an interesting conversation. He could be worse than her father on occasions. Too protective, not in a paternal way. More the way you treat an investment. Cool, dispassionate, monitored.

How close should Nicole bring Waverly into her life? That was the bigger question. The less she knew about each job, the better. That way, if Nicole was ever caught, if Waverly was ever suspected of involvement, she could truthfully deny any knowledge. This might protect her from punishment. She promised Waverly she would keep her safe. The best way would be to keep her at arm’s length when it came to the thefts. 

Admittedly, Waverly now knew about the journal, the Picasso, Procter and Monet she was about to steal. But, she wasn’t directly involved in any of those crimes. Her alibi, should she ever need one, was simply she didn’t know what Nicole did, assuming she was a legitimate seller of antiques. 

Naiveté can be a useful ‘get out of jail’ card, especially when waved by a beautiful woman.

Or, Nicole could simply disappear. That would certainly keep Waverly safe, but it would destroy her. Waverly needed to trust Nicole as much as Nicole needed to trust Waverly. It would be the glue to keep their life together. And they were going to need a lot of glue for this to work. Waverly would be entering a world where the meaning of trust was distorted. 

How do you trust someone who steals for a living? 

Monday couldn’t come soon enough. In the meantime, she had her next theft to plan. 

The preparation and execution of each robbery needed to be faultless. This next piece was located in The National Gallery, in Trafalgar Square. Claude Monet’s – Irises. Doc was particularly interested in seeing this piece once acquired. His client, a Middle Eastern man, with a passion for very expensive paintings, matched by a reluctance to pay the exorbitant prices such pieces now commanded. He would rather have something for a fraction of its value, to gaze upon in his own private setting, than have it on display to friends and family, knowing he had wasted tens of millions of dollars on its acquisition.

For Nicole, this would simply be another job for her. No pleasure derived, other than the satisfaction of carrying out her work without being caught. The theft of the painting Waverly had admired was completely different. 

Stealing for love made Nicole feel ecstatic.


	12. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole makes a mistake...

Monday morning arrived. As soon as Champ left Waverly was outside Nicole’s door. Nicole could see she looked drawn, tired, yet there was a new calm about her. When she took her in her arms, Nicole could feel her Waverly was back. Her muscles were relaxed. She looked at peace with the decision she had made.

Their love making went on most of the morning. Waverly fell asleep in her arms, the first proper sleep she had had in days. She stirred as Nicole gently extracted her arm from under her. She needed to finish her preparations for the theft.

Sitting in the lounge, a cup of coffee in one hand, she poured over the layout of the gallery one more time. Nicole would secure the painting at night. She preferred working during the day. It afforded her anonymity, blending in, one person lost in the crowd. This painting was special. She needed time for its removal and quiet. An empty gallery, regardless of cameras and night duty guards suited her on this occasion.

She knew where she needed to enter. She knew where she would need to reposition the cameras. She would have a can of spray paint with her in case she needed to take out a camera completely. Her height gave her an advantage in reaching higher positioned cameras. It would buy her time. Guards rarely sat watching cameras all night.

She would leave the painting in her usual drop place for Doc to collect the next day. It was secure, out of sight. It gave them the advantage of being able to work with a piece away from prying eyes. 

Waverly came into the lounge, stretching. She needed that sleep. She appeared refreshed. She stood behind Nicole, looking at the layout with her. 

“Can I come with you?”

“No. I told you, I work alone.”

“I want to see you in action. It will be exciting.”

“Waverly, this isn’t a game. This is dangerous. If I do something wrong, if I get caught, you need to be as far away from me as I can get you. Do you understand?”

Waverly felt Nicole pushing her away. This was the first time she had heard Nicole be firm with her. She understood the danger. At least, she thought she understood. She simply wanted to be a part of her life. She walked out on the balcony, tears welling. Nicole followed. She realised what she had done.

“Hey, hey. I’m sorry. Waverly, please. Listen, I’ve never had to include anyone in my work. This is new to me too. I promised you I’d keep you safe. The only way I can see this working is for you not to know too much. Not be caught up.”

Waverly let Nicole wipe away the trickle of tears on her face. “I get it. I’m curious. That’s all.”

“I know. Once we figure out how this is going to work, I’ll take you on a fishing trip with me.”

Waverly looked confused. “I don’t eat fish. I’m Vegan remember.”

Nicole laughed. “Sorry, not an actual fishing trip for fish. It’s what my father called our trips. See what we could catch, steal together.”

“Oh, right.” Waverly paused, attempting to think of a vegan alternative. “I suppose we could call it our tofu trips.”

Nicole loved this girl more than ever. “OK. Our tofu trips.”

The night had been chosen. Waverly was awake listening for Nicole’s return. She was worried for her. She need not have been. Nicole was used to doing this work. It was a walk in the park for her. Specifically, a walk in the gallery. For Waverly this was all new. She fell asleep shortly after 2am. Nicole already had the painting in her possession by then. She was making her way to the drop point. It would be another hour before she was back at the apartment. She had rented a moped to get around London at speed. False number plates, in case she was spotted, or stopped. 

There were plenty of mopeds on the streets even at that time of night. It allowed her to dip down alleyways, take shortcuts. The helmet also covered her distinctive red hair. From behind, in her black outfit and leather biker’s jacket she looked masculine. 

Art theft is usually for resale or ransom, artnapping as it’s known. The Mona Lisa was stolen from the Louvre by an employee. The Scream was stolen twice, the thieves leaving a note on the first occasion, which read: Thanks for the poor security. Both recovered. The high value of the pieces is the motivating factor. Transporting is easy once out of their frame. Some thieves are willing to inflict damage to a painting by cutting it out and rolling it into a tube carrier, cracking older paint. 

Nicole was meticulous not to cause too much damage. She was brought up to love art. To damage it would be like taking a box cutter to her own body. If she had to roll a painting to move it, she would wrap it first in a lambswool blanket, the way a mother wraps a newborn. There were occasions when she had no choice but to cause a small amount of damage. That’s where Doc came into his own. His ability to restore paintings to original, in some cases better than original, made them an ideal partnership.

London’s Metropolitan Police had a special unit for investigations of this nature. The small team was led by Detective Xavier Dolls. It was a thankless task. Very few stolen items are ever recovered, most ending up squirrelled away in private collections. Only a small percentage of stolen art is ever recovered. No more than 10%. A depressing statistic for Dolls.

There was something different about the spate of recent thefts in London. They were too high value, too prominent to warrant a low level thief. Dolls believed these must have been carried out by a professional gang in town. He suspected Russians, although security footage of visitors in the days prior to each theft revealed nothing. None of the staff or guards saw anyone suspicious. All the paintings were taken at night. A broken window at the rear of The National Gallery the only sign of entry. No sign of entry at Tate Modern. A magician at work. He couldn’t work out how these jobs could have been carried out. Getting a painting and its frame out of the small broken window at The National Gallery would have been impossible.

He didn’t know yet the Monet had left the building minus its frame. Nicole had carefully removed the painting, rolled it, slipping it out the way she had entered. The frame was sitting in a store cupboard spotted on her first visit to the gallery. Covered with an old white cloth, placed against the back wall, it would be some time before it would be discovered. The client wasn’t interested in the frame. His desire was for the painting. That held the most value. Another frame could be made once the painting was in his possession.

His assistant, Jeremy Chetri, was dusting for fingerprints. Dolls knew they wouldn’t find any. Professionals rarely left a calling card. He didn’t know Nicole’s trick of leaving a ‘Removed for Cleaning’ card. He didn’t know he was dealing with the beautiful woman, picked up briefly on the security cameras. He didn’t know she was responsible for another dozen or so thefts of valuable paintings around the world. He assumed he was dealing with a man, or men. His first mistake.

His second mistake. To assume the artworks being stolen in London would eventually turn up for sale somewhere. They wouldn’t. These works of art vanish into the night, never to be seen again by the public. Their future viewing would be reserved for a very small, select group of eyes.

Nicole’s one mistake. Stealing the Picasso for Waverly. 

It was too high profile a crime to be left unsolved. If she had simply stolen the Monet and left London, as per the original plan, she, or whoever was stealing paintings, would not now be on Dolls' radar. 

Curious what love does to us.


	13. Movement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole becomes visible...

“There. That woman. Jeremy, go back. Play the last part of the security footage again from Tate Modern.”

Dolls had seen something.

“There. Do you see her? The tall red head. Now, play the footage from The National Gallery. See her? It’s the same woman. Can’t be. A woman. No.”

Jeremy sat looking at the footage, still unsure what Dolls had seen. 

“She could be an art student?”

Dolls looked at him, the way a teacher looks when a student makes a comment that clearly hasn’t been thought through.

“We’re looking for a woman. Fuck. Probably Russian. Those bastards are clever.”

“Jeremy, get onto the Art Loss Register. See if they have any known Russian females in their database fitting the description of this woman.”

The Art Loss Register is the world's largest database of stolen art. A computerised catalogue of lost and stolen art around the world, located in London. 

Nicole did not yet know she was being hunted. Her movements were always careful. But, this is London. Cameras everywhere. Not enough spray paint to get her out of this mess.

Her movements had been registered. As much as she wanted to fade into the background, her height and distinctive hair had been spotted by Dolls. You can’t get away with being invisible with her kind of beauty. The only upside in all of this. Dolls was interested only in Nicole. He had failed to take account of Waverly. 

The Art Loss Register didn’t have anyone fitting Nicole’s description in their database. They quickly made a profile. They contacted other museums and galleries around the world to ask them to review their security footage one week before any major theft occurred. 

In every instance Nicole appeared. 

Dressed impeccably. 

Easy to miss. 

She now was a marked woman.

Once your eyes adjust to looking for something, to looking for someone, you cannot help but see it, or, in this case Nicole. 

It’s the game played with children. Spot the red car. Suddenly, every red car becomes visible. 

Suddenly, every red haired woman standing in front of a stolen painting becomes visible. Many wondered why they hadn’t seen her before. 

They lay in bed, the morning having been spent indulging in their favourite pastime. Nicole knew she needed to start making preparations to move on.

“Waves. We need to start thinking about leaving London.”

Waverly was quiet.

“Oh, right. I hadn’t thought that far.”

Waverly suddenly felt a panic wash over her. Nicole sensed it.

“Hey, it’s OK. Look, we have a few days, a week tops to sort out how you want to leave.”

“Can we not stay?”

“Oh, Waves. I wish we could. We need to keep moving. It’s part of the deal with me. I promise you, you won’t be bored. But, you will have to get used to not being in one place too long. I need to watch my footprint. The cities I steal from have lots of cameras. I need to keep my movements to a minimum.”

So much information for Waverly to process. “Can I tell Wynonna I’m leaving?”

Nicole wasn’t sure how to handle Wynonna. She knew she was very protective of her youngest sister, after the loss of Willa. She was wary of Wynonna doing something to keep Waverly from going with her. 

“I can’t stop you saying anything to Wynonna. But, I would say don’t.”

Waverly looked shocked. She knew this might be part of the devil’s bargain she was making with Nicole. But, Wynonna was her other soulmate. The thought of abandoning her without saying goodbye.

Nicole knew Waverly would have some hard decisions to make as part of the new life she had chosen. One of them was how to deal with Wynonna.

“My angel. Will any explanation about what we’re about to embark on together be enough to satisfy Wynonna’s curiosity?”

Nicole had a point. Nothing Waverly could say would stop Wynonna thinking the worst. Worst still, stopping her from leaving. 

“OK. I can text her from our next location. Yes?”

“Sure. But, I need to get you a secure phone.”

Nicole could sense she was scaring Waverly. “Hey, it’s no big deal. You keep your number. It just means your phone can’t be tracked. OK.”

Nicole paused. The bigger issue needed to be addressed.

“Waves. You need to think about what you say to Champ.”

There were tears in Waverly’s eyes. The reality of her decision to go with Nicole now hitting her.

“Waves. Oh, Waves. I know this is huge for you. There’s so much for you to grasp. I promise you it’ll all be worth it. We just need to figure out how to extract you from this life. That’s all.”

Waverly hugged Nicole. She knew she wanted to be with her. Being with her was simple. Working out how to untangle herself from her old life was the complicated part. It would take strength. Something Waverly wasn’t sure she had in abundance right now. Nicole knew this. She also knew Waverly needed to do this on her own, if she was ever to stand in her own power.


	14. Nicole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just one more theft...

Jeremy had not been able to get a clear image of Nicole’s face from security footage. It didn’t matter. Dolls had someone on which to focus his efforts. Major museums and galleries around the world were alerted to Nicole’s profile. From now on, staff and guards would be on the lookout for a tall red-haired woman, mid-twenties, possibly Russian. 

They were instructed not to approach, simply observe her movements. Dolls wanted to see this woman in action. This was a waiting game for when Nicole made her next move. He was certain she would. Afterall, she had stolen several paintings. This wasn’t a one off activity. 

She was a serial thief.

Doc delivered the Monet to his client. He wired Nicole’s share of the money to her, with a message that he had another request from his regular client. He would be back in London tomorrow afternoon to go through the details. A small gold trinket box, also at the Victoria and Albert museum had caught the attention of his client this time. He was very pleased with the snuff box. This new piece would sit nicely in his secret room of pleasure. 

One more piece. That’s all. A repeat of her performance with the snuff box. Slightly more risky to obtain, given she had taken one piece already from the museum. Nicole considered the risk manageable. She calculated they didn’t know it was her who took the other piece. She knew the layout, the movement of the guards. She didn’t need to case the museum again. She could simply walk in, take the piece, walk out.

Doc needed the box within two days. That would give Nicole just enough time to acquire before leaving London. Doc considered New York would be a good next stop for her. He had several clients lined up for artwork on display in the city. 

Entering the V&A museum, Nicole perused the exhibitions once more before heading to the area where the box was located. The guard on the front door recognised her. She fitted the description of the person Dolls had circulated. The guard entered the viewing room for the museum’s security cameras. Another guard was eating his lunch at the desk. 

“John, I think that woman is in the museum. Can you move the cameras to pick her up?”

The guard put down his sandwich. They scanned the bank of screens in front of them.

“There, entering the Rosalinde and Arthur Gilbert Collection. Keep that camera on her.”

Nicole hovered around the case where the box was located. She scanned the room for the position of the guard, the movement of visitors. She spotted her moment, as the guard left the room and a group of visitors moved to another display cabinet. The trinket box was extracted within seconds. Nicole didn’t bother leaving her usual calling card. She left the building.

All her movements in the museum had been captured on the security cameras.

Dolls had his woman.

It was now a matter of tracking her through London. He alerted his counterparts in the Metropolitan Police to keep a watch for her. She wasn’t high priority for them. It would take some time for Dolls’ request to be actioned. She was now in the system. Eventually, she would be picked up on a security camera somewhere in London.

Cameras captured her outside Fulham Broadway underground station. Again, walking towards Chelsea Waterfront, finally outside the apartment block. Dolls had a location for her. He didn’t want to arrest her. He wanted to see her face to face. Get a sense of who she was.

His Range Rover was parked early the next morning outside the apartment block. He and Jeremy were waiting. The plan was to watch for Nicole leaving the building and wait for her return. Jeremy would photograph her, while Dolls struck up a conversation, enough to get her to say something. He needed to hear her. He needed to know if she was Russian.

They spotted Nicole leaving just after 10am, on route to give Doc the box. She returned shortly before midday. Jeremy had dozed off, earning an elbow from Dolls. Camera at the ready, Dolls made his way to the entrance. As Nicole approached, he pretended to be looking at a map of the area.

“Sorry, I’ve just moved in. Can you tell me which way to the station?”

Nicole stopped, scanning Dolls. She smiled, looking down at the map with him.

“It’s not too far. About two minutes on foot.”

Dolls thanked her, holding the door for her as she entered the apartment block.

Returning the car, he grinned at Jeremy. 

“She’s American.”

Nicole entered her apartment in a panic. Her bags had been packed for a few days. All she needed to do was retrieve the items from the safe. She hammered on Waverly’s door.

“Waverly we need to go right now. We don’t have much time. Take only a few items and your passport. I’ll get you more clothes, I promise. Just hurry.

Waverly could see the panic in Nicole’s eyes. She was really scared. Is this what it was going to be like being with Nicole? That constant feeling of being on the edge, not quite knowing if she, if they were about to be caught.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“I’ve been spotted. A guy downstairs asked me directions to the station. Pointed to a map.”

“Maybe he was lost?”

Nicole gave Waverly a look that said don’t be so naïve.

“Waverly, he had the wrong map for the area. He wanted me to know he’s onto me.”

Waverly desperately wanted to talk to Wynonna, to have her reassurance. She couldn’t. She was with Nicole now. She hadn't even had time to talk to Champ. She left him a note, saying she was sorry. She needed space. She'd call him in a few days.

A taxi arrived fifteen minutes later. Nicole scanned the area outside the apartment before ushering Waverly into the back, the driver putting their suitcases in the boot. Dolls and Jeremy had left. Dolls knew he would spook Nicole if he was seen sitting outside her apartment in a car. He didn’t want to arrest her just yet. He had another plan. He was happy to let her run, if she chose to.

She would turn up somewhere. 

He knew who she was.

He would be ready.


	15. Ornate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole and Waverly leave London...

They were on the run. It was no longer safe staying in the UK. Nicole needed to get them out of the country. Fast. 

She knew just the place.

She had chartered a private plane to take them to Italy. It landed in Marco Polo Airport, Venice early evening. There was a private water taxi waiting. It took them the short distance to Nicole’s place on the Grand Canal. As the taxi moored, Waverly could see the entrance to a large, ornate building. Bet Nicole has rented a nice apartment, she thought to herself as they were helped off the taxi. Nicole hadn’t rented an apartment, she owned a whole Venetian palace. 

Waverly’s eyes widened as they walked through a large entrance hallway, up a flight of stone stairs on the right, into the most spectacular drawing room she had ever seen. Antique furniture everywhere, beautiful paintings on the walls, sumptuous Persian rugs on the floor. Nicole was amused by the look of awe on Waverly’s face.

“OK. And breathe.”

“I can’t. Nicole. What is this place?”

“It’s my father’s. He needed somewhere for his legitimate antiques. OK, plus not so legitimate. It was my summer home when we were in Europe.”

“Right. And, there’s me holidaying at Butlin’s most summers.”

Nicole didn’t know what she meant, guessing she hadn’t seen anywhere like this before. 

“I have somewhere else to show you.”

“Don’t tell me you have another place like this in Venice.”

“Oh. Err, no. I do have six apartments around the world.”

Waverly couldn’t tell whether Nicole was joking. “Only six. Where exactly?”

“Paris, New York, Vienna, Sydney, Toronto and Hong Kong. I’m looking at another in Morocco.”

Waverly was shaking her head. She couldn’t process new Nicole. She previously imagined her as someone living out of a suitcase in rented apartments. Not someone who had enough money to splurge on luxury property around the world. But, if you’re stealing to order and have money to burn, why not. She had been more than happy with Champ’s apartment. She laughed at her naiveté.

“What’s funny?”

“Oh, nothing. Information overload. What did you want to show me?”

Nicole took her hand, leading Waverly back down the stairs used when they first entered. They descended another flight to a lower level. Low lighting detailed the brickwork, a large black metal door at the far end of a narrow corridor.

“So, what I’m about to show you is my life’s work. Don’t be freaked out.”

Waverly was freaked out. What did Nicole have locked in the room under her Venetian palace?

Nicole entered a code on the pad in front of her. Waverly heard the door unlock. Nicole pulled it back. Bright lights came on automatically, revealing a huge underground cavern. A flight of metal steps led down from a small landing just inside. Nicole took Waverly’s hand as they entered. 

Wealth. Stolen wealth. Viewed only by a chosen few.

Waverly’s mouth was open at the sight before her. Paintings, golden chalices, jewels. Dazzling to the eye.

Wealth. Stolen wealth.

“Is. Is this all just for you? I mean. Have you brought others here before me?”

“Only you. I couldn’t take the risk of someone knowing about this place. It’s my sanctuary. My place of beauty. I’ve let you into my world. You must promise me never to tell anyone. It would not be safe, OK. Not even Wynonna. I know you tell her everything, but this stays with us.”

Waverly nodded. In this very moment, she had no idea how she would ever explain any of this to her anyway. A question suddenly flashed in her mind. Who did Nicole have to share this with?

“Weren’t you lonely? Not being able to share your life with anyone.”

“Of course. Many times I wanted someone to stand and gaze at the beauty with me. But it’s too much to ask of someone. The burden of knowing might kill any pleasure gained.”

“Then you found me.”

“Then I found you.”

That’s when Waverly saw it. Displayed on the far wall. The Picasso.

She couldn’t take her eyes off it. “Nicole, seriously. This is so fucked up. I love it.”

“Thought you might. Not too freaked out?”

“Seriously, I’m completely freaked out right now. But, also so fucking horny. I could take you on that chaise longue right here.”

“Be my guest. Just be careful of the fabric. It was owned by Marie Antoinette.”

“So, so fucked up.”

They made love on the very item of furniture King Louis XVI of France and Marie Antoinette had once indulged their passions. As Waverly came, straddling Nicole, she couldn’t help but think to herself she would never ever be bored again.

“How did you get it here? The painting.”

“Robin. My courier. If Doc isn’t with me, Robin collects the pieces I leave in the drop place. Those I choose for myself, he brings here.”

There’s a private masked ball tomorrow evening at one of the palazzos. It’s not the main event in Venice. The carnival is in February. I’ll bring you back for that if you like. They made their way upstairs. Waverly was quiet, contemplating her new world.

The gondola arrived at 9pm to take them to the ball. Nicole had a selection of antique masks for Waverly to choose from. She selected one with a delicate black and gold design, which Nicole thought was a beautiful choice. 

“You know that one was once owned by Queen Victoria.”

“Fuck off.”

“No. Honestly. It was the one she wore to her first masked ball with Prince Albert.”

Waverly nearly dropped it on the floor. “Not even going to ask where you got this.”

“It was my father’s favourite. He bought it, admittedly with money from a big jewellery heist. My mother wore it on occasions, when she was here.”

“Do you still see your parents?”

“Not really. My father doesn’t want me visiting him in jail. My mother doesn’t want me visiting period.”

Waverly realised Nicole truly was that orphan on the railway platform, in a screwed up, Hollywood kind of way. Nicole hadn’t known anything else in her life. A father who indulged his passion for possessions, a mother who gave up the one possession she should have held onto for dear life.

Nicole.

They made their way out to the small jetty. It was a perfect evening. Warm, the waves caressing the side of the gondola as they stepped on board, its lantern lit for their journey.

They kissed as the water carried them to an extraordinary evening. Love making in Venice has its own distinct rhythm.

Entering Palazzo Santa Sofia, Waverly heard the music (Nox Vahn & Marsh - Follow Me). She held Nicole’s hand as they moved among the guests, masked strangers nodding as they passed. Nicole nodding in return.

Waverly would follow Nicole forever.


	16. Police

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where is Waverly...

Champ was worried. He knew Waverly had been acting differently. He never suspected she would disappear on him. She had changed. He called Chrissy to ask whether she knew anything. She didn’t. She was just as surprised as he was. She suggested he call Wynonna to check whether she had gone there. Champ was reluctant initially. He liked Wynonna, but didn’t want to worry her, or get her annoyed. He left it a few hours before calling.

“Hi, it’s Champ. Listen have you seen Waverly?”

“No, why? Why are you calling me to ask where my sister is?”

“I came home and there’s a note from her saying she’s sorry, she needs a few days by herself. And, she's not answering her phone. It’s not like her.”

Wynonna processed the information. She had an idea where Waverly might be.

“Champ, can you check if Nicole is in?”

“What, now?”

“Yes, now.”

Champ did as he was told. He knocked twice. No answer. He was still on the phone to Wynonna.

“I don’t think she’s in.”

“Stay there. I’ll be over in twenty minutes.”

Wynonna ended the call. She wouldn’t, would she? she pondered, as she got in a taxi outside her office. She tried her mobile several times. Straight to voicemail. No reply to any of her text messages. Definitely not like Waverly. She normally responded quickly. Entering Champ’s flat, she began searching for anything that would help them track down Waverly.

“Where does she keep her passport?”

“What’s going on?”

“Where’s Waverly’s passport?”

“In the bedroom. We have a box for holiday stuff. Why?”

“Show me. Now.”

Champ retrieved the box. No passport. In it's place was Waverly's mobile, on silent. Wynonna stood beside him, a worried look on her face.

She scanned the room. It was messy as usual. Waverly wasn’t the best at keeping rooms tidy. Wynonna spotted a small suitcase open on the floor, several items of clothing hanging out. The wardrobe door was open. A number of empty hangers where Waverly’s clothes should have been.

She looked at Champ. “I don’t know where she is. I think I know who she is with. I’m sorry Champ, she’s gone with Nicole.”

She decided to contact the police. Waverly had disappeared. So had Nicole. Wynonna needed to find her sister.

Champ was sitting on the sofa in a state of shock when two police officers arrived. Wynonna had explained to him what had been happening behind his back. She felt bad. She also felt angry her sister hadn’t come clean to him. Most of all she was worried. Worried her sister had done something, gone somewhere with a criminal.

The officers took down details of Waverly. Champ gave them the photo he had of her in his wallet. Wynonna gave them a description of the person she suspected was with Waverly. She was careful not to mention anything about Nicole being an international art thief. She didn’t want Waverly to get into trouble. She just wanted her baby sister back. From the circumstances described, the police considered this low priority. They would put out some enquiries.

Wynonna hugged Champ, who was still processing everything that was happening. 

The officers fed the details into their database. Nicole’s description fitted the profile of the woman who was under surveillance by Dolls. They relayed the information to him. He sat at his desk, turning a pen in his fingers. So, she’s made a run for it. With someone else. Excellent. 

The chase was on. 

Waverly lay in bed gazing up at the exquisite painted ceiling in Nicole’s bedroom. Nicole entered with a tray. She could smell the freshly brewed coffee. 

“What do you fancy doing today?”

“This. Mostly this.”

Nicole smiled. 

“I need to call Wynonna. Tell her I’m OK. Can I use your phone?”

“Sure. Be my guest.”

She was about to hand it to Waverly when a message flashed up from Doc.

Doc: Where the fuck r u?

Nicole: Venice. I have a problem. Can u come?

Doc: How big a problem?

Nicole: VERY…

Doc arrived that evening. He stormed into the main room, stopping abruptly when he saw Waverly.

“What the hell is she doing here? Is this your big problem?”

“No. I’ve been exposed. I think someone is onto me. A guy outside the apartment. Could be police. Not sure.”

“Why did you bring your neighbour here, with all this going on? Honestly Nicole, did your father teach you nothing?”

Waverly looked at Doc, then at Nicole, who had her head down. “Guys, I’m in the room with you. I can hear everything.”

“You need to go to New York. I’ll get you a flight.”

“Both of us, or I’m not going.”

“Nicole, you need to disappear for a few months. It’s too dangerous for Waverly to be with you right now. I can get her back to England. You need to go on your own.”

“I’m not going unless Waverly goes with me.”

Doc growled. He sat in silence, considering the options.

“OK. But, if anything happens don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

It was an anxious flight. They made it out of Italy, all they needed to do was get to New York and go to Nicole’s flat. They would be safe there until Doc found them a place off police radar.

They stood waiting in line to have their passports inspected. Waverly went through first. Then Nicole. The officer looked at Nicole, then her photo, handing the passport back to her.

They were clear. They walked towards the exit wheeling their suitcases, Nicole looking for the taxi rank. A guy approached them, putting his hand around Nicole’s arm. She looked at him momentarily, confused by the action. She realised what was happening. Another guy had Waverly by the arm. 

She looked terrified.

“Waves. It’s OK. It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine. 

They were escorted out of the airport into a waiting police van. Both sat quietly, looking at each other as the van made its journey through New York.

Dolls was on his way.

Nicole sat in the interview room. Her head lowered. She knew she was in trouble. She was about to find out how much. Dolls entered the room. He had a folder with him. He proceeded to lay out photo after photo of stolen artefacts. Nicole recognised all of them. She looked at Dolls realising she was well and truly screwed. She had tears in her eyes. She knew she couldn’t get out of this. She knew she would go to prison. She knew it would be the end for her and Waverly.

Dolls sat quietly observing Nicole. He had her right where he wanted. 

“We have security footage of you near most of these pieces. You’re looking at a minimum thirty year jail sentence. Parole in fifteen years, if you’re lucky.”

Nicole couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. 

“The woman you’re with will probably have to serve time as well, as an accomplice.”

“No. She isn’t involved. It’s all me. She had nothing to do with any of this.”

“I’d like to believe you. But, she was with you at Tate Modern.”

Nicole realised the mistake she made, stealing The Picasso. How could she have been so stupid? And now, Waverly was caught up in all this madness. What had she done?

“Please. I’ll give you whatever information you need. Please don’t involve Waverly.”

Dolls sat quietly listening to Nicole. This was exactly what he wanted to hear. He had power over her through Waverly. He knew without this kind of leverage, Nicole would probably tell him some contrived story, never revealing where the stolen items were, who she worked with. 

“If, hypothetically, I was to overlook Waverly’s part I would need you to do something for me.”

“Anything. Name it.”

Dolls looked directly at Nicole. “I need you to work for me.”

Nicole wasn’t expecting this request. Dolls registered the look of shock on her face.

“I…I can’t.”

Dolls stood up. “I’ll give you one hour to decide. If your answer is still no, I’ll have no option but to start processing Waverly.”

He turned to leave, pausing at the door. “She’s really upset right now. Nicole, she will go to prison for you. Does she deserve that?”

The door closed behind Dolls. A cold sweat broke out over Nicole’s body. She put her head in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. Dolls watched from the next room, the one way mirror allowing him to view Nicole without her knowing. He could see she was wracked with guilt, afraid for her lover. 

Enough time, enough pressure she would change her mind. 

Dolls had figured out he was never going to get anywhere simply catching the odd thief like Nicole. Recovering only a few pieces. He needed someone who could steal artworks back at his request. 

He needed an insider.


	17. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole has some explaining to do...

Dolls entered the room where Waverly was being held. She looked really scared. Dolls immediately felt sorry for her. He genuinely believed she had nothing to do with Nicole’s less than legal activities. Her profile was clean. Never been in trouble with the law, no penalty points on her driving licence. She had only been captured once with Nicole on security cameras at Tate Modern. It looked as if she had been drawn into something for which she was completely unprepared.

She was, however, the best leverage Dolls had on Nicole. Dolls needed someone with Nicole’s skills to help him fight a recent increase in thefts. He also needed Nicole off the scene. If she was capable of stealing famous artworks he didn’t want her still active. Better to be working with him, than against him, he figured.

He placed his folder in front of Waverly, opening it to reveal a still from security footage at the Tate. He pushed the image across the table for her to see. It showed her and Nicole standing in front of the stolen Picasso.

“I believe your name is Waverly. Waverly Earp. Is that correct?”

Waverly nodded, unable to speak. She continued to stare at the photo.

“Do you know the whereabouts of this painting?”

She did, but Nicole warned her not to give any information away. To say nothing, or say she didn’t know. She must never tell where it was hidden.

She shook her head. She wanted to cry. She could feel her body shaking with fear.

“Miss Earp. I will ask you again. Where is this painting?”

“I. I don’t know.”

Dolls slammed his hand down on the table, causing Waverly to jump out of her seat.

“Your girlfriend is happy for you to go to prison. Is that what you want?”

Waverly could feel herself becoming lightheaded. It was all too much. She knew Nicole would never betray her. She may not be able to save her from prison.

Waverly sat down, looking at Dolls. She couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what to do. The tears came.

Dolls left the room. This was exactly how he wanted Waverly to be. He knew she was the less experienced of the two. If he could put enough pressure on her, he would have Nicole. 

He need not have worried.

Nicole had made her decision without any additional pressure. She needed to protect Waverly at all costs. If that meant working with Dolls then that was what she had to do. Only on the condition Waverly went free. That was her only request. She sat waiting for Dolls to return. An hour went by, then two. She was beginning to panic. What if Dolls had decided to go ahead and process Waverly? What if Waverly was already on her way to jail? 

She called out.

“Hey. Somebody. Hey. I need to speak to Dolls. Somebody, tell Dolls I’m ready to cooperate.”

Dolls sat watching in the other room. He could hear the panic in Nicole’s voice.

He had her.

Dolls agreed to Nicole’s one condition. He stressed, however, one double-cross, one wrong move by Nicole and he would put Waverly in prison. Minimum five years. Nicole nodded. She knew Dolls had her by the heart. She would do anything for Waverly. Even give her life if she had to.

Waverly was allowed to ring Wynonna. She sobbed uncontrollably, barely able to get the words out to say how sorry she was for leaving her without saying anything. How she had left without saying anything to Champ. How she had screwed up everything. Wynonna did her best to comfort her over the phone. She was crying. She wanted to be there with Waverly. She knew she had betrayed people she loved, but now was not the time to tell her. She needed to be there for her baby sister.

As soon as she finished the call to Wynonna, Dolls led Waverly to the room where Nicole was being held. He opened the door, allowing Waverly to enter. She rushed to Nicole, holding her as if her life depended on it.

“I’m so, so sorry. Waves. I’m so sorry.”

Both were crying. Nicole unable to embrace Waverly. Her hands still handcuffed to the table. What a mess. All she could do was accept Waverly’s arms around her. They kissed. 

“Waverly, I need to get you out of this.”

“Nicole, please. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t. I love you.”

“I love you with all my heart.”

Dolls came in. Waverly was escorted from the room, still looking at Nicole until the last moment.

“Down to business.”

Nicole spent the next four hours explaining to Dolls her methods of work. How she stole pieces on instruction. How she was never allowed to meet clients, or handle any requests direct. How her handler kept each side of their business separate.

Dolls was frustrated. He hoped Nicole would be the key to finding the people for whom artefacts were stolen. Without that information, Nicole’s use was limited to him. He needed to get to her handler. Nicole was hesitant about revealing Doc’s name and whereabouts until Dolls made it very clear he would send Waverly to prison, that night if necessary.

Seeing no other way, she gave Dolls all the contact details she had for Doc. Little did she know, this would save Doc’s life. 

Doc had much bigger problems to deal with than being pursued by Dolls. He had annoyed the Voi, a gang of Russian art thieves. The Monet theft had been offered to their gang initially. They didn’t like people taking business from them. They assumed Doc was responsible for the actual theft following a quiet chat with the painting’s new owner. The owner was now in intensive care at a hospital in Dubai after the gang’s visit. 

He needed to move fast.


	18. Russians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who do you trust...

Dolls needed Nicole. And, yet. And, yet. She was a serial thief. Beautiful, with a beautiful girlfriend. Still, a serial thief. He had to be sure what she was telling him rang true.

He needed Doc. If what Nicole was telling him was the truth, Doc was the bigger player in all this. If he could get Nicole and Doc on his side.

He didn’t yet know Doc was being pursued by the Russians. Doc had gone to ground. If the Russians were after him, he needed to stay hidden. Doc didn’t yet know Nicole and Waverly had been arrested in New York. He assumed they were safe in Nicole’s flat. He needed to take care of his own life at this very moment. 

A text appeared on his phone. 

GCHQ: Nicole in custody. 

Doc’s initial thought. What the fuck? His second thought. GCHQ. As in, UK’s intelligence and security unit. Guessing Nicole had handed over his contact details, he sat looking at the message. Could he trust Nicole not to say too much. Clearly not. OK, think, think. If GCHQ had his phone location, could they, might they get him out of the trouble he was in with the Russians?

He hated relying on others. He had got out of situations on his own before, but he knew the Voi would catch up with him eventually and they never played nicely. He was screwed either way. If there was a slim chance of the good guys getting him out of this bind, at least he would be alive. Locked up, probably. But, alive. Worth a shot. 

Doc: Russians on my back. Need help.

GCHQ: We can get you to a secure location.

Trust.

Everything in this life is a question of trust. Yourself. The parent and child. The teacher and pupil. The lovers. 

Doc had a hard choice to make. Who do you trust when your life is in danger? 

If the Russians got to him he would be screwed. Worse, he would be dead. Nicole was in custody. He needed help.

He sent GCHQ a text to say OK. He prayed the good guys got to him before the bad guys.

Nicole had been moved to a holding facility. She didn’t know what was happening. She did know, or hoped she knew, Waverly was safe. Everything else was inconsequential to that being true.

Waverly sat in the interview room. Dolls returned, reading notes in his folder as he entered. He looked up, briefly.

“You’re free to go. We’ll arrange a hotel for you here in New York. You'll get your passport back when your flight to the UK has been arranged.”

Waverly couldn’t believe what she was hearing. More tears. The relief. She was free.

“Wait. What about Nicole?”

“She’s staying here to help us.”

“I’m not leaving without Nicole.”

“Miss Earp. You have no choice.”

“NO. I am not leaving.”

Dolls sat down at the table. He looked tired. He was successful, ruthless, but not cruel.

He motioned to the chair behind Waverly. 

“Waverly. Sit please. Listen, what Nicole has done, the crimes she committed will send her away for thirty years or more. She knows this. She’s agreed to work with us, but only on the condition you are out of the picture. She’s protecting you.”

He paused, closing his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts.

“Waverly, she’s trading her freedom for yours. That’s not something you push back in her face.”

“I’m not leaving.”

He stood. A thought on his mind. He looked at Waverly.

“Why? Why would you stay?”

Waverly returned his look, realising he had never felt what she felt for Nicole.

Nicole spent a lonely night in a cell. She had had no word on Waverly. She couldn’t eat. She couldn’t sleep. She had screwed up in epic proportions. She had grassed on her partner. It was all a mess. She hugged herself, wishing Waverly was there beside her.

What a fucking mess.

Doc was in Rome. He feared the Russians would have already picked up his phone trace and be on their way. Either that, or be putting in a request for a hit job to the Italian mafia. When you operate in this line of work, there are contacts, favours asked. Favours called in. He might end up being someone’s favour.

He sat in his hotel room. He knew the next knock on the door might be last he ever heard. 

Or, room service.

Hours had passed since he sent his reply to GCHQ. Too long, he thought. 

What a fucking mess.


	19. Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole needs to know Waverly is safe...

Waverly had been moved to a hotel. She didn’t know where Nicole was being held. She was alone in New York, without her passport and she was scared. She was, however, free. To a degree. She had been instructed to stay in New York. Where would she go anyway, without Nicole? She hoped Doc would show up. She didn’t like him, but at least he would be a face. Even if that face was unfriendly. She considered asking Wynonna to come over, but knew she was busy and after what she had put her through, she didn’t want to drag her even more into the mess she was in. She knew if she asked, Wynonna would be on the first flight over. That was comforting.

She spent the following day wandering around New York on her own. Excitement, tinged with sadness. She imagined visiting the places with Nicole. 

What a fucking mess.

Dolls entered the visitor’s room. Nicole had been brought from her cell, sitting handcuffed once more to a table. She looked drawn. Her first night in a cell had been traumatic. She had always known a day like this might come. She knew she had been lax in her actions involving Waverly. She knew when it was just her she could slip into the night unseen. Her heart had ruled over her head. It had landed her in this situation. She was angry at herself for dragging the one person she cared most about into this mess. 

No treasure, no painting, no artefact compared to Waverly. They no longer held any worth to her. She had been brought up to believe - possessions over people. She now realised that was a lie. Her father never meant to instil this belief in her. He simply loved possessions. That was what eventually drove Nicole’s mother away. She was another one of his possessions. He had never unlocked his heart for her to enter. He adored Nicole. His fascinating trinket, he would call her. But, his love extended only to her being useful to him, as long as she behaved herself and did what she was told. Nicole’s mother saw this. A mother, jealous of her own daughter because of the bond she had with her father. She could have taken Nicole with her. She decided not to. A cruel decision. 

Nicole never understood why her mother abandoned her. Discarded her. Made her feel she was no longer of use to her. 

Was she not lovable?

Her mother’s departure made it easy for Nicole to live a life where she kept everyone locked out. Her own mother had taught her she was unlovable. That is, until Waverly entered her life. Waverly had shown her she was loved, no matter how fucked up her life was.

She was loved for who she was, not what she did. 

Dolls read through his notes.

“What do you know about the Russians?”

Nicole looked confused. She expected Dolls to ask her more questions about the thefts she had carried out. Why was he asking about Russians?

“Not much. I know they operate mostly around Europe. I’ve not worked with any Russians. Why?”

“Your business partner Doc said the Russians were on his back. Would you have any idea why?”

“Nope. Unless he’s caught up with them in some way. Maybe his client? I told you, I never knew who I was stealing for. I did the job. Doc did the rest.”

Dolls looked at Nicole. He wanted to believe her, but something kept him from trusting her. She would be useful to him, as long as she behaved herself and did what she was told.

“I need you to steal a painting.”

“I need to see Waverly. I need to know she’s OK. I’m not doing anything for you until I know she’s safe.”

“She’s been released. She’s staying in New York. We have her passport. You’ll see her when the job is complete.”

Nicole looked relieved. Dolls had kept his side of the deal. Perhaps she could trust him.

“Nicole, I need to be able to trust you. I need to know you’ll do what we tell you to do. Waverly is my insurance policy.”

Doc couldn’t wait any longer. The good guys weren’t coming to rescue him. He would have to sort this out on his own. He made peace with the fact he might not get out of Italy alive. He couldn’t stay in a hotel room indefinitely. If he could get to Mexico, he might have a chance. It was now or never. He booked a ticket on the next flight out. He had four hours to kill. It would be safer for him in the airport. Less likely to be snatched. Less likely someone would shoot him with all the crowds. Plus, officers carried guns in the airport. 

He packed his bag. Called reception to book him a taxi. All he needed to do was leave the hotel, get in the taxi, head to the airport. 

He opened the door, ready to move his case out. A man was casually walking down the corridor. He didn’t look like a tourist. He definitely didn’t look like someone who worked at the hotel. He looked exactly like a contract killer. Doc closed the door. They had found him. Someone in the hotel must have snitched on him. Bastards, he thought. Who can you trust? He was too high up to leave by the window. He couldn’t shoot his way out of the situation. 

He was trapped. 

There was a knock on his door. Doc was confused. A polite contract killer. Knocks before killing. He scanned the room looking for something heavy. If he was going to go, he would go fighting. He braced himself. The guy on the other side of the door had the advantage. A gun to be precise. He had the base of a lamp. Not exactly a fair fight, but that was all the room offered.

He swung open the door, launching at the guy. Wait, no gun. Where’s the guy’s gun?

The man put his hands up to prevent being hit by the lamp, sending Doc crashing into the wall. 

“MI6. Here to get you to the safe house. Nearly got me with that.”

Doc looked very relieved. The good guys had got to him first.


	20. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What to do when there's no way out...

Dolls had tracked down a painting he wanted to a house on the outskirts of New York. Sure, NYPD could raid the property. Recover the painting. Dolls had something else in mind. This was a test to see what Nicole would do for him. 

The owners were away. An easy theft for someone with experience. Hardly taxing for Nicole. Dolls had chosen this one to see Nicole in action. 

Was she as good as he thought she was? 

He hoped she would be. He had more elaborate projects in mind if this one was successful. He recognised they would need to build a strong working relationship if he was to trust her with those.

Waverly answered the hotel phone. Officers would arrive in one hour to escort her to the airport. Waverly began to panic. She knew she had to go with them, but she would be leaving Nicole to her fate. As Dolls explained to her, because she had been arrested, she would be deported. Re-entry to the US would not be for five years. How could she leave Nicole?

One officer took her suitcase, the other leading her out of the hotel to a waiting squad car. The drive to the airport was the most miserable she had ever experienced. She couldn’t believe in the short time she had come to know Nicole she was leaving her behind. Possibly, never to see her again.

She was heartbroken.

The flight home was equally miserable. A woman sitting next to her gave her a packet of tissues, seeing the tears in her eyes. She imagined so many things with Nicole. She had been prepared to take on anything with her. Not this. She wasn’t prepared to take this on. To leave her lover. It didn’t matter she was free. She wasn’t. Her heart wasn’t. It belonged to Nicole. 

She had stolen it.

Wynonna was at the airport to meet her. There were tears of joy in her eyes seeing her baby sister walk out of the security room. They turned to sadness seeing Waverly break down. 

“I’ve lost her Wynonna.”

“Hey, baby girl. It’s OK. We’ll figure this out. Together.”

Waverly loved her sister. She never wanted to hurt her again the way she had in disappearing without a word. She was right. Together they would figure out what to do next.

Nicole handed the painting to Dolls. He was impressed. He had been after this painting for some time. Here it was in his hands. Nicole was good. No, she was very good.

“Dolls, I need to see Waverly. It was part of the deal.”

Dolls was silent.

“She’s in England.”

Nicole had been betrayed. She trusted Dolls to keep his word. He lied to her. She kept her side of the deal. Who can you trust?” She sat silently contemplating her future in the US without ever seeing Waverly again. She couldn’t stop the tears. 

She was heartbroken.

“Nicole, hey. It’s OK. I’m taking you back with me. To London. You’ll get a chance to see Waverly very soon.”

Without thinking, she hugged Dolls. He felt slightly embarrassed at their interaction, but let her hold him. He wasn’t cruel.

He had one more job for her in Washington. He promised they would return to England on completion. He would arrange for Waverly to visit as soon as Nicole was settled. 

She asked Dolls to make up a small business card for her. He looked confused, but obliged. Whatever turned her on he was game.

Doc was now under the protection of MI5. He knew they would keep him away from the Russians. They informed him Nicole and Waverly had been picked up at JFK Airport on arrival. Waverly’s sister had alerted police to her disappearance. Waverly’s passport details were flagged at Marco Polo Airport. Once they knew she was flying to New York it was simply a matter of arresting them once through passport control. 

Nicole knew she was going to see Waverly soon. She was overjoyed. Best gift ever. That may have been the reason she failed to spot the trigger alarm in the basement where the artefact was kept. A simple oversight. Her mind on other things. On another person. 

She made her way out, leaving her calling card: Object Removed for Cleaning. A token gesture. Her joke to say she had been there. The house was quiet as she slipped out the window. 

Two guards were waiting for her. 

She was trapped. There was no escape. They each had an arm, dragging her back towards the house. She heard the pop. One guard released his grip, crying out as the bullet pierced his arm. The other, realising his colleague had been shot spun round, still holding Nicole. Another pop. His shoulder. Unable to hold Nicole and his shoulder, he let her go.

She ran. Heading for the tall gates she climbed to get into the property. She was almost at the top. She felt someone holding her ankle. She looked down. Dolls was giving her a final push up. He scrambled over the gate after her, grabbing her hand, running towards the car.

He was laughing and whooping as they made their getaway. “God, I love America.”

Nicole laughed, adrenaline kicking in. She was beginning to like Dolls, although slightly concerned at his obvious enjoyment at what had just happened.

She was going to see Waverly.


	21. Useful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole is being used...

Nicole was escorted from the holding facility to a waiting squad car. The journey to the airport was the best she had ever taken. She gazed out on New York. In previous taxi rides to the airport the night skyline had been of little significance. Tonight, it looked magical. 

The night flight to London was equally magical. The woman sitting next to her asked why she was so happy. Nicole told her she was going to meet her partner. The woman smiled.

“That’s lovely. He’s a very lucky guy.”

“She,” Nicole corrected, returning to the article she was reading in the In Flight magazine.

Dolls was several seats back. He trusted Nicole to behave herself.

Waverly had been informed of Nicole’s arrival. She was beside herself. She was staying with Wynonna until everything was sorted out. She had met with Champ. Apologised repeatedly for what she had done. He was still confused. He couldn’t get his head around why she had done what she had done. He was annoyed she hadn’t told him sooner. He had cleared out her things from his apartment after Wynonna explained the situation to him. Waverly understood. She had cheated on him. She wished him well. Knew in her heart he would find someone who cared as much for him as she now cared for Nicole. 

Wynonna went with Waverly to the facility where Nicole was being held. She waited several hours before being allowed into the visitor area. It was cold, clinical, austere. None of that matter. They would be seeing each other after days apart. 

Waverly couldn’t hold back the tears as she saw Nicole enter. They were together again. Waverly wanted to touch her so badly. A glass screen kept them apart.

“Hey babes.”

Nicole looked ecstatic to see her, but exhausted.

“Hey. My angel. You OK? Waves, I’m so sorry I got you into this.”

“Nicole. It’s OK. I’m still here. Babes, I love you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Nicole couldn’t hold back any longer. Everything she had gone through. Every emotion bottled until now. The damn burst. Waverly saw her lover’s heart break before her, unable to hold her, as a mother would. She only had words to console.

“Nicole. My love. I’m here to stay. I’m not abandoning you. OK”

Waverly was crying. Too much pent up emotion to hold back.

“This is so fucked up. Waverly, I can’t ask this of you.”

“Nicole. You don’t have to ask. I already said yes to everything you do. Just promise me one thing…don’t ever steal the Crown Jewels from The Tower of London. OK.”

The tension broke. Nicole loved this girl with all her heart. She would happily steal the Crown Jewels for her if that’s what she wanted. 

Doc was sitting in the interview room. He needed to keep a cool head for what was about to happen. Dolls entered. He looked at Doc, returning his gaze to the notes in his folder.

Pulling out a chair he sat opposite. The dance had begun.

“I’m impressed. No profile. No priors we could find. You’re invisible.”

“Why, thank you.”

“Can you explain to me why you have one of the most ruthless Russian art gangs after you? And, why you’re willing to turn yourself in.”

Doc sensed this guy knew more than he was prepared to reveal. “Needs must.”

“I have your thief. She’s done a couple of jobs for me. She’s very good. You must be proud.”

Doc was silent. Nicole was working for this guy. Who can you trust?

“She didn’t want to. We gave her no option. She’s very taken with Waverly Earp. I would say it’s her only weakness.”

Doc realised how Nicole had been trapped. Her heart. He had known Nicole for a long time. She was almost a daughter to him. She would not, could not make a slip for fear her father would be disappointed. Now she had Waverly, her heart had been captured. 

Dolls continued. “There may be a way of using Nicole to take out this gang.”

He sat in silence, contemplating the new world he now found himself in. A new life was calling. The same new life calling to Nicole. He knew this was the way forward.

“I’ll work with you, on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“You keep Nicole safe. I won’t do anything for you without that being honoured.”

Dolls wanted to shake Doc’s hand. The few times Dolls had worked with Nicole he understood what Doc was asking. Her skills were exceptional. It was more than that. She needed their protection. She deserved their protection. She was valuable. Precious. Waverly realised this. 

Dolls had been pursuing the Russian gang after Doc for some time. His work was hard enough. With this gang stepping up their activities each year, he was fighting an even harder battle. Dolls couldn’t believe his luck when he caught Nicole. She would be useful for an operation he now had in mind. To have Doc too. Even better. 

The leader of the gang was a particularly nasty individual. No one crossed him if they wanted to live. His name: Bobby Lebed, but everyone knew him as Bobo. A cute nickname for someone who could calmly watch a man die without blinking. 

Doc was interested. If Bobby, Bobo was out of the picture, his gang disbanded, it would certainly help him out of his own sticky situation. Doc was nothing if not self-serving. He needed to know, however, what Dolls had in mind before committing himself.

Dolls knew there was little he could do to stop the gang taking what they wanted. They were not discreet in their actions, believing themselves to be above the law. If this meant entering a museum or gallery brandishing a gun so be it. Life was cheap to them. There was one thing Dolls now realised had fallen into his lap that was to his advantage. 

He would get Nicole to leave her calling card.

Doc sat looking at Dolls. Was he fucking serious? Also, what in hell’s name would leaving a calling card do that a few bullets to Bobo’s head couldn’t.

“I want to get inside his mind. I want to screw with him. Make him think he’s got serious competition. That’s where you come in.”

“Pray, do tell.”

“I want you to put the word out there’s a new thief on the scene. We draw Bobo out. A sting operation.”

Doc shook his head. “Bobo isn’t stupid. He’ll realise he’s being set up. Is there no other way?”

“Trust me. I’ve studied this guy. He’s arrogant enough to consider himself invincible. He’ll take the bait if we set this up correctly.” 

“As long as Nicole is safe. That’s my deal.”

Dolls held out his hand. “Deal.”


	22. Villain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To catch a thief...

Nicole would pose as an unscrupulous art dealer, looking to acquire a painting illegitimately for one of her clients. She was not known to the gang. It would be a case of arranging a meeting with Bobo to get him to accept the job. 

Bobo would never suspect a woman undermining his operation. Dolls hadn’t until he spotted Nicole on security footage. If Bobo found out the person taking work from him was a woman, it would severely bruise his male ego. It would make him look weak in front of his gang. A woman outsmarting someone like Bobo. He would have no choice but to eliminate his female rival to maintain status. Afterall, how could be remain powerful when a woman was screwing him. 

Doc understood the plan. He didn’t like the plan, or the fact Nicole would be exposed. But, agreed it might just work.

“Doc, it’s the only way. Nicole’s profile is with every major gallery and museum around the world. She’ll never be able to return to being a thief. We need to put her on display. Bobo needs to know she is behind the thefts. Not you. Yes, it’s risky, but she’s the key.”

There was another reason Dolls wanted Doc to inform his clients. He wanted to neutralise their criminal activities at the same time as taking out Bobo. Dolls was nothing if not thorough. 

The plan was outlined to Nicole. She understood. If it helped Doc, she would do it. Dolls reassured her he would be there by her side as back up. This would also help reduce her sentence. He recommended not telling Waverly. Nicole agreed, making one request to see her before leaving for Moscow. Dolls agreed.

They sat gazing at each other through the glass. Nicole was happy to see her smiling face again. She knew she was doing the right thing working with Dolls. Waverly told her what she had been doing. Nicole listened, without paying attention. Simply to hear her voice was enough.

Dolls and Nicole flew to Moscow. The meeting was held in a private dining room at one of the smartest restaurants in the city. Bobo didn’t attend. He observed from another room via a hidden camera. His business associate noted the requirements of the job. Bobo liked the look of Nicole. He could easily do business with someone this beautiful. She got up to leave, pulling a business card from her jacket pocket. 

Bobo studied the card. It had her phone number. He was tempted to arrange a secluded dinner with her before she left Moscow. He certainly wanted to get to know this gorgeous red head.

Nicole’s ability to remain calm got her through the meeting. Cool under pressure – sangfroid. That and having Dolls by her side.

The sting had begun. 

It was Doc’s turn. He started making calls to his clients. He was careful not to reveal Nicole’s identity. Only to say he was working with someone to procure pieces. More requests started coming in. None would be fulfilled. It was a case of generating a big enough buzz about his thief. 

Nicole’s phone rang. A number she didn’t recognise. A deep male voice spoke.

“Miss Haught, I am glad you came to us for your request.”

“Who is this?”

“My name is Bobby Lebed. Bobo.”

Nicole nearly dropped the phone. What was Bobo doing calling her?

“I would like to discuss the arrangement with you in person. This evening, 8pm. Come to the same restaurant.”

Nicole was shaking. This wasn’t in the plan. She couldn’t say no. No one ever said no to Bobo Lebed.

“Perfect. See you there.”

She sat on the bed, still shaking. One thought in her head: Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Dolls knocked on her door.

“You OK?”

“No. I’ve been invited to dinner by Bobo.”

“Perfect. This is better than I could have hoped. We’ve got him by the balls.”

“Oh, God. I hope not. It’s not my thing.”

Dolls realised what she was implying. He laughed.

“It’s OK. No, balls will be touched in the capture of Bobo. We need to get you a swanky dress. You’re going to need it to get this guy excited.”

“Oh, God. This is so, so fucked up.”


	23. Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole has a dinner date...

Nicole entered the restaurant. Dolls had driven her. He would wait outside. She was wearing a small wire for Dolls to listen to the conversation. He knew Nicole was scared. He also knew she could perform under pressure. She wouldn’t have been able to carry out the thefts without that ability. 

Now to hook Bobo.

The meal went well. Bobo was the perfect gentleman. They chatted about art. Nicole displayed her exceptional knowledge. Bobo was impressed. He liked interesting women. He liked beautiful women. She was both. Nicole found herself relaxing into his company. He too admired art. Had an equally extensive knowledge. 

He commented on the recent painting thefts in London which concerned him. He was particularly annoyed by the theft of Monet’s Irises, which he considered a personal insult. 

“I do not like it. This man stealing paintings. He is not good for business. I will have a quiet talk with this rival of mine,” he winked.

Nicole had to stifle a laugh. Here was Bobo telling her about London, about a male thief, not realising that ‘male’ thief was sitting opposite wearing an extremely sexy black velvet dress. She smiled, raising her glass in a toast.

“I agree. Here’s to good art theft.”

Bobo laughed, raising his glass to Nicole.

“Would you come to my house tomorrow evening? I have something to show you.”

Nicole nearly sprayed her champagne over the table. She sat pondering the offer. She had no choice but to accept.

“With pleasure.”

“My assistant will send details.”

Bobo’s phone buzzed. He read the message, a look of annoyance on his face.

“Miss Haught. Nicole, my apologies. I need to go take care of some business. Till tomorrow.”

He got up to leave, taking Nicole’s hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss.

She smiled. One thought in her head: Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Dolls had a huge grin on his face as she got in the car.

“Well, that went better than I could ever have dreamt. You were amazing.”

Nicole was still in a state of shock. This was so beyond fucked up, she no longer had any words to describe how fucked up. She failed to hear Dolls’ compliment. She had gone from international art thief to potential new girlfriend of a notorious Russian gang leader. So, so fucked up.

“Dolls. I don’t think I can do this. It’s too dangerous. I know it’s our only hope, but even you’ve got to admit this is beyond crazy.”

Dolls was silent. He knew it was crazy. Beyond crazy. He knew he was putting Nicole into an extremely dangerous situation. He knew one slip, one false move and it could result in something nasty happening. He knew he had shaken hands with Doc, promising to keep Nicole safe. He knew he was not honouring his side of the deal. And yet, he knew they were getting close. Closer than he had ever been. His instincts told him this was the way to break Bobo and his gang. He could sense it. 

“I agree. But, we are so close Nicole. It’s now or never. We only have one shot at this. You need to find something in Bobo’s place to steal. Something small, but important enough to Bobo to let him know who you really are.” 

He paused, letting Nicole consider the task.

“Under no circumstances do you sleep with him. Got it.”

Nicole looked at Dolls. “Over my dead body, which I’m hoping won’t happen.”


	24. Xavier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole leaves a calling card...

Dolls checked the wire on Nicole was working properly.

“I know what you are doing is very dangerous. Just be amazing, OK.”

“I’d rather be alive, if that's OK.”

Dolls hugged Nicole. “I’m sorry to put you through this. It’s a mess, but we’ll get through it.”

Waverly had shown Nicole the way to let people into her life. She wasn’t on her own any more. She had people around her. People who cared for her. People she cared for. 

A car came to collect Nicole. It swept along the driveway towards a mansion on the outskirts of Moscow. Nicole was impressed. There were lots of guards with guns outside. This place is heavily protected she assessed, as one of the guards opened the car door for her. Entering the mansion, more guards, all armed. She was escorted through a set of doors at the end of the hallway. Bobo was sitting at a long table, talking to someone on his phone. He waved his hand for Nicole to approach.

“One moment.”

He motioned for Nicole to sit. “Yes, tonight. Do the job and I will consider your debt settled.”

“Good evening Nicole. I thought we would eat first. After, I will show you my collection.”

The meal was as relaxed as the previous evening. Bobo was a good host. Nicole was beginning to like him. He had charm, a way about him. They sat chatting, Nicole scanning the room for an item to acquire.

“Come. Let me show you.”

He took Nicole’s hand, leading her out to the hallway, down a flight of stairs to a dimly lit corridor, a large metal door at the end. Does every criminal have an underground art chamber, she pondered as Bobo opened the door. Nicole was impressed. So many things to steal.

“You really know your art.”

She spent time perusing the collection. She settled on one small item suitable for her to steal. She was careful not to spend too long viewing it. A quick glance, she moved on. Returning to the dining room, they resumed their conversation. Bobo explained his most recent additions. A collector who couldn’t pay a debt had parted with his collection of small boxes. So intricate. So delicate. Bobo had not considered collecting these until he held one in his hand. It had once been owned by Frederick II, King of Prussia no less.

A car returned Nicole to her hotel, shortly after 11pm. She headed to Dolls’ room. 

“No luck? I’m guessing there wasn’t an opportunity to steal anything.”

Nicole opened her purse, extracting the stolen piece. A delightful Eighteenth Century snuffbox made of green chrysoprase stone, featuring an intricate pattern detailed in gold and diamonds. The very one she had stolen from the V&A museum.

“You are amazing. I knew you were good. Did you leave your card?”

“Oh, yes. With a handwritten message.”

“OK. Tell me. What did you write?”

YOUR RIVAL IS A WOMAN

Dolls couldn’t stop laughing. “Our flight leaves in two hours. Grab your things.”

Nicole was sitting in Heathrow Airport when she sent the text to Bobo.

Nicole: Wonderful evening. Left something in your art room.

Bobo: Pleasure is mine. We have dinner tonight. I can return it.

Bobo headed downstairs, looking for what Nicole might have left. He saw her business card in the space where the snuff box had been on display. Turning it over, he read her message.

“Fuck! She’s the thief.”


	25. Yield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the game begin...

The game was well and truly on. 

Dolls needed Bobo to believe Nicole was his to own.

Nicole knew she had to keep Waverly out of this operation. She wanted to tell her, but it would worry her. They chatted on the days she visited. Waverly could tell something was playing on Nicole’s mind. She put it down to her being incarcerated. They longed for the day they could embrace each other once more. Nicole needed to stay strong. There were people relying on her. It’s easy when you are a lone wolf. When other people are involved, it becomes complicated. 

Dolls would pretend to be Nicole. It was his turn to lure Bobo. 

Nicole/Dolls: You know my work

Bobo: I do not need you

Nicole/Dolls: I have more to offer

Bobo: What can you offer me?

Nicole/Dolls: Body & Brains

Bobo did not want to be drawn in by this woman. And, yet. And, yet. She was good. She was very, very good. She stole the snuff box from him. She stole the paintings in London. Her skills were exceptional. Magical, even. He could use her. 

Could he trust her? 

She was infinitely more attractive than the men working for him. Or, should he simply kill her?

What a team they would make. Her arrogance matched his. Audacious enough to move within his circle, waiting for the moment to reveal her true talents. 

He desired her as his new possession. Someone to display as his trophy.

Bobo: You come to me. 

Nicole/Dolls: You come to me. 

Dolls knew he had to play the brazen bitch to entice Bobo to move beyond his lair. 

Three days. 

No contact from Bobo. Dolls knew with enough time, enough pressure, people do what he wanted them to do. The phone buzzed 6.09pm UK time.

Bobo: Paris. 

Dolls grinned reading the message. Bobo was in the game. Perfect.

Nicole/Dolls: London.

Bobo: Where?

Dolls had him by the balls. He was ready to move his chess pieces into position. He needed one more. He drove to Kensington where MI5 were sheltering Doc.

“Bobo is coming to London.”

This guy is good. Very good, Doc thought. Dolls had lured Bobo out of Russia. He wanted in on the action.

“You have a place in mind?”

“I think so.”

“Will Nicole be there?”

Dolls wasn’t sure. He needed Nicole, but he didn’t want to risk her getting hurt.

“I want you there. You any good with a gun?”

The look Doc gave Dolls was priceless. 

The location was finalised. An exclusive hotel just outside London. It would be cleared of all guests and staff for the meeting. This was a big sting operation. They were about to take down a ruthless Russian gang leader. Everything needed to be tied down. 

Staff were removed. Replaced with a team of undercover officers, some posing as guests. It had enough tree coverage for marksmen to position themselves should a shoot-out take place.

Dolls decided Nicole’s presence would be needed afterall. She entered the game not knowing her fate.

Bobo arrived in a private jet three hours before his meeting with Nicole. His guys were already on the ground, casing out the venue. Dolls made sure they were allowed every access to the hotel. They needed to feel safe to bring Bobo there. 

Chess played at its finest. Never, ever give away your next move.

Bobo positioned his security guards around the hotel. He wasn’t prepared to take any chances, especially with this woman. And, yet. And, yet. He wanted her. She was too beautiful, too intriguing to ignore. 

What was it about Nicole?

Dolls drove Nicole and Doc to the venue. No one spoke. They all knew this could go very wrong. 

Nicole desperately wanted to have one more chance to see Waverly before entering the fray. She hoped, if she came out alive, they would have something on which to go forward. In her heart, she knew she was facing a long sentence for the crimes she committed. It was too much to ask Waverly to wait for her. She knew Waverly would wait without hesitation. Nicole didn’t want to be that selfish. She would be happier seeing Waverly have a life beyond her imprisonment. Is this what love feels like? Wishing the person who has your heart every happiness, even if you are no longer able to be a part of that happiness. 

Nicole calmly walked into the room where the meeting would take place. 

Bobo was pacing back and forth, his hands behind his back. He watched her move towards him, his eyes scanning her. 

“You are good. For a woman.”

“I am what I am.”

Bobo laughed. “Do I kill you or marry you? You are intriguing.”

“I have something of yours.”

Nicole placed the snuff box in front of Bobo. 

“You have something else of mine? Yes.”

Nicole had only taken the snuff box. What did he mean?

“You have my attention. I choose not to kill you on this occasion.”

Nicole smiled. One thought running through her head: Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I have a need for you. In time, perhaps you will prove to be more to me.”

Nicole stood in her moment, finally realising what her life truly meant to her.

“Bobo. I’ve spent a fucking lifetime stealing for others. I’m tired. I want to go home. I know where that is now.”

“A pity. I would have liked to have known you better. To know what you would feel like under me.”

Bobo motioned to his guard. He aimed his gun at Nicole. 

Doc shot first, his aim and timing impeccable. He took out the guard through the window, leaving him reeling in agony on the floor.

Dolls shouted to his team: “Get Nicole out.”

More police entered the building. Nicole crouched on the floor, hands over her head, terrified. Bobo fled the room, realising it was an ambush. 

Doc got to her first. Dolls followed him into the room, giving cover. He turned to give back up as Doc and Nicole made their escape. 

They heard the gun. One of Bobo’s gang shot Dolls before he could fire. He crashed to the floor. Doc pushed Nicole towards the exit.

“Nicole get out, now. I’ll cover you.”

Nicole saw Dolls on the floor. “I’m not leaving him.”

“Nicole, now. Go.”

“Doc, I’m not leaving him.”

Doc looked at Nicole. Her stubbornness had always been his weakness.

“OK. OK. We can’t carry him and protect ourselves. We need to move him.”

They dragged Dolls to the corner of the room. He moaned as they did so.

They were cornered. Doc was ready to shoot anyone who entered the room. He was pumped, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The door swung open. Doc aimed his gun.

“Police. Don’t shoot.”

The officer spoke into his radio. “Building clear. Three in study. One wounded.”

He approached, helping Nicole to her feet. Doc followed.


	26. Zenith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What to do now...

The trials went better than expected. Unable to pin anything on Doc, he went free. Nicole was given five months. Bobo was convicted of a multitude of crimes. His weakness, a woman thief who had screwed with his group. With his mind.

Nicole’s sentence was extremely lenient, given all the crimes she committed. Dolls had been instrumental in her sentencing. That, and the return of several key pieces of artwork in her collection, along with confiscation of properties she chose to reveal in her possession.

Waverly visited at every opportunity. It was hard seeing Nicole locked up, but she knew it was for a much shorter period than either hoped. She would soon be out. 

Waverly was waiting in the visiting room. “Three more weeks and we can put all of this behind us.”

“Waves, I’m desperate for you. Showering is interesting here. It’s like a buffet.”

“Don’t you dare sample any of it, Nicole Haught! I’m the only person on the menu from now on.”

“Oh, God. Waves, I’m now thinking about you on a table. I’m not going to last three weeks.”

“Babes, it’s not that long. Trust me, you’ll have plenty to eat when you get out.”

“Waves. Stop. I’m so turned on right now. Is it wrong I keep thinking about you in handcuffs?”

“Very. I’ll get a pair.”

Nicole could no longer steal for a living. Her profile was too well-known in galleries and museums around the world. She only had one choice. It was easy. Go straight. The irony. Helping investigators with unsolved art crimes. Who would have thought?

Yet, here they were. Nicole and Waverly embarking on a life together that would mean neither were bored. Nicole soon realised working with Waverly was the zenith of her career. 

The climax. 

She taught her everything. Waverly was a quick learner, relishing her new job. She still took time to sunbathe. Nicole applying sun cream to her back. Would this girl ever wear a bikini top? 

She hoped not.

Nicole remained friends with Dolls. He had been really good to her. He came to know a side of Nicole few got to see. The loving kid who wanted to make people proud of her. To love her.

The one place she wouldn’t relinquish was Venice. Waverly stood on the balcony, the water of the Grand Canal lapping against the brickwork. Her old life a distance memory. Her new life with Nicole here now. They were in love. They had each other.

Nicole agreed Wynonna could visit. She arrived in a fluster at Marco Polo Airport. Waverly was there to greet her. They hugged. They cried. Waverly asked Wynonna not to be freaked out with Nicole’s place. 

“It’s got a dungeon? Tell me she’s into kinky.”

“You’ll see.”

Wynonna’s mouth fell open the moment she stepped off the water taxi. Nicole was there to greet them.

“Fuck me, Nicole. They say crime doesn’t pay. It fucking does. Look at this place.”

They decided not to show Wynonna the underground art chamber on her first visit. Or, any visit for that matter. Information overload. Wynonna was more than impressed with the upper part of the house. 

Doc was invited to their first evening meal together. The four got on surprisingly well considering. Both Nicole and Waverly noticed Doc’s interest in Wynonna. Wynonna was oblivious, of course. Nicole winked at Waverly, knowing her next mission would be to get Doc to steal Wynonna’s heart. She could see them together. It would give him the reason he needed to settle down.

After dinner, Nicole took Doc to one side. She explained she needed a copy of that painting. The one hanging in the Chamber. Doc was happy to oblige. He would have it ready in two weeks. His ability to replicate Picasso’s The Dream was his gift to the couple. It was the happiest he’d seen Nicole. He saw how lonely she had been. With Waverly by her side, she had a chance of a new life. One that didn’t involve her looking at a painting alone. He couldn’t offer Nicole what Waverly could. She was still a young woman, many more years ahead. She deserved a happy life with Waverly.

Nicole handed over the original painting to Dolls. She was sad to see it go, but recognised if she was going to commit to a new life with Waverly, this was the one painting that had brought about the turn of events. She also knew it was the best thing for her and Waverly. 

A fresh start.

Waverly and Nicole stood admiring the copy of Picasso’s Dream Doc made for them to hang on the wall of their Venetian home. The end of one journey. The beginning of a new one.

The original was returned to Tate Modern. Extra security placed on it, under Nicole’s guidance. Visitors stopped to gaze on the painting once more, unable to see its hidden message.

They would need a microscope to spot the name ‘Waverly’ written in the eye of the woman in the painting. Doc’s personal tribute to the woman who stole Nicole’s heart. 

The world gazing at Waverly. 

Forever…

[Alexa play: OceanLab: I Am What I Am]

\----

Postscript:

Hope you enjoyed this story. It’s loosely based around two true stories, so incredible you won’t believe them. 

The first is German master forger Wolfgang Beltracchi. Collectors paid millions for his forgeries of paintings supposedly by Picasso and Léger. He even duped art experts. Beltracchi’s wife sold the forgeries to collectors and museums claiming she discovered the paintings in her family’s collection. The couple even created vintage-style photographs to fool specialists, in which the wife posed as her grandmother with the paintings hanging in the background. The scam was eventually busted when a British art expert discovered the pigment titanium white in a forensic analysis of a painting. Titanium white did not exist in 1915, the year the painting was supposedly created. In 2011, Beltracchi was sentenced to six years in prison, his wife to four. He now sells his own paintings and is making a fortune…!

The second is Frenchman, Stéphane Breitwieser. Notorious for art thefts between 1995 and 2001. He admitted to stealing 239 artworks from 172 museums while travelling around Europe, an average of one theft every 15 days. He differs from other art thieves in that he did not steal for profit. He was a self-described art connoisseur who stole in order to build a vast personal collection, particularly of 16th and 17th century masters. At his trial, the magistrate quoted him as saying, "I enjoy art. I love such works of art. I collected them and kept them at home." Despite the immensity of his collection, he was still able to recall every piece he stole. 

Check out their names in Wikipedia…seriously, you cannot make this stuff up….

Art theft: only a small percentage of stolen art is ever recovered (guesstimate: 5% to 10%). Again, if you look up Art Theft on Wikipedia you’ll see the list of famous paintings stolen. It’s fascinating. 

Tate Modern: I had the same reaction as Waverly on first seeing a Picasso, hence its inclusion in the story. There’s just something about standing in front of one. I mentioned one other Tate painting in the story: Procter’s The Orchard. If you haven’t looked it up, do, its depiction of a naked woman is exquisite. What’s even more interesting is it was painted by a woman. Dod Procter was the only female artist of her period to paint women in this way. I had to include this painting in the story, just for my own personal satisfaction of having come across Procter’s work. It’s my personal steal…!

The National Gallery: Claude Monet’s Irises is listed as part of the gallery’s collection of his work. I haven’t been to the gallery (yet). I wanted a famous piece by a famous artist and well Irises seemed to fit that perfectly. 

The Victoria & Albert Museum: the green snuff box stolen by Nicole is part of the Arthur and Rosalinde Gilbert collection. 

All the pieces mentioned in this story should be on display. I wanted such pieces because if you ever get the chance to visit the galleries or the museum you can look at them and remember this story. 

Some pieces may occasionally not be available for viewing. A small card in its place: Object Removed for Cleaning….!

Lebed is Russian for swan...as in Robert Svane, aka Bobo del Rey.

In love and light…


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